In, Out of the Dark
by HeavenlyBodies
Summary: Dean tried to have a 'normal' life for Sam's sake. It would take losing himself in the darkness and being dragged back into the light, before he accepted what he already knew …and maybe his angel would accept it, too.
1. Chapter 1

**Beta:** the lovely **kimisgirl** *hugs*- anything still wrong is probably me ignoring her advice  
**Alpha:** my dearest **kyokohitsuji**  
**Warnings/Squicks:** ANGST, pre-het, depictions of Hell, did I mention the angst  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never have been, never will be

**AN1:** Wanna give a huge immeasurable thanks to **kimisgirl** for not only the wonderful beta, but for putting up with me and letting me rant and bounce stuff off her! *hugs sweetie*  
**AN2:** The title comes from a song, _Imperfect Heart_ by Todd Wright:  
"I was all messed up with no place to go; stalled and stuck on a long dark road. I was all out of luck when you brought me in, out of the dark- me and my imperfect heart."  
**AN3:** Okay before ppl start with the 'but wait they're in Heaven what do they need bodies for' the answer is simple, in my little fandom bubble some angels still use their vessels because the original owners no longer live there, therefore if they left, the vessels would die, for lack of a better word. And yeah, some angels get attached. :D

As this was for the Dean Castiel Big Bang I must pimp the wonderful art crystal_line did for this. http : / lusaly . livejournal . com / 77510 . html ? mode = reply

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 1~~~~~~~~~

The dark shape of the Impala pulled away from the sidewalk outside Lisa's home. It wasn't his home anymore, if it ever truly had been. She'd known that before he had, or maybe just before he'd admitted it to himself.  
It had been nice these past few weeks, being with them. He'd enjoyed taking Ben to softball practice, helping him work on his change-up and his lines with the ladies. And when the kid smiled, well it was hard to believe he wasn't Dean's when he saw Sammy's smile beamed back at him like that.  
And Lisa… she was a saint. She didn't deserve him or his baggage, but she welcomed them both.  
That first night, after putting Ben to bed, Dean had tried to leave, just to find a motel. It wouldn't feel right, he wasn't part of their family, not yet, 'maybe, not ever' he'd reminded himself. But Lisa wouldn't let him leave. She'd said that after the last time, she wasn't ready to let him out of her sight. They'd laughed, but her possessive tone warmed him. "You don't have to come upstairs, I can make up the couch," she'd smiled as she drew him back away from the door.  
She got blankets and pillows for him, when she returned she found Dean sitting, almost huddled, on the long couch, leg shaking nervously. Silently, she'd knelt beside him, hand slipping to his shaking knee, stilling it. The couch never got made and she never made it upstairs. She'd wound one arm over Dean's broad shoulders taking him in a half hug, which he greedily returned. She'd let him hold her all night. No questions, no expectations, just giving him what he needed- contact. Whatever Dean had been through wasn't going to be something easily overcome and she realized that.

On the rare times he would sleep, Dean would dream about that day, the hole in the ground that sucked his brothers away, the way something wearing his brother's face could so easily and unhesitantly destroy his, no, not his, the angel and the closest thing either he or Sam had ever had to a father. It was those nights he woke up sweating and breathless, still on Lisa's couch, refusing to share her bed. It didn't feel right, not yet. Part of him wondered if it ever would. Part of him knew 'normal' would never be him.  
Still, Dean tried to have a 'normal' life like Sam had wanted for him, he really had, but he couldn't. He'd hear the news or read the paper or hear some strange story while pumping gas and it would send his mind reeling with the possible causes and how to deal with them.  
It didn't take long for him to realize he couldn't fight the hunt. It was as much who he was as taking care of Sammy was. He'd failed at one; he couldn't let himself fail on the other.

So here he was, leaving the one woman he thought he could ever have a family with, ever be normal with. They both understood why. She had kissed Dean and told him to 'come back for that beer anytime he wanted'. Dean offered her a wavering smile and a promise to be there whenever she or Ben needed him before climbing into his baby and driving out of their lives, again.

Then there was the _other_ reason- the not quite 6ft tall, trench coat wearing, blue-eyed reason.  
Dean understood why Cas left. He couldn't even blame him, even if he'd said different the last time he saw the angel. Cas had gotten the chance, not just to go home- a home he thought he'd lost forever- but he had the chance to change it, make it better, and try as he might Dean couldn't fault him for that. Hell, he would have done the same. He only wished they had parted differently. It had been months since that final day, and he hadn't heard a word from his, no, _the_ angel. If there was anything Dean understood it was that Cas wasn't his anymore, if he ever truly had been. It didn't keep him from missing the angel. He haunted his dreams and his waking thoughts. Crystal blue eyes that saw through him, and stayed despite, or maybe because of, what he saw, they followed him, reminding him of what he'd once had.  
It was tearing him apart as much as losing Sammy was. He still woke up expecting to see his brother's hunched shoulders hovering over his laptop, his face when he looked up, hopeful and happy, but of course he never did. He'd tried to find a way to get Sam out of there, but nothing ever panned out. Short of a Heavenly rescue, he was beginning to doubt there was a way.  
Sam and Cas had been gone five months, and Dean was as far from happy as he had ever been. Even his time in Hell seemed to pale to this.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

He was less than two days out from Cicero, when he stumbled, face first into his first hunt since the world hadn't gone to Hell in a hand basket- a string of accidents at a local refinery. It turned out to be a simple salt and burn, yet it had so felt good; the hunt, the destruction- watching the flames lick over the bones and tattered fabric of a 19th century chain boss. It seemed to feed a fire inside him.

A few days later, he got wind of a nest of vampires near Provo, Utah. A dress suit- the same deep blue as… he shook his head annoyed at the unexpected thought; deciding he really needed to get a new suit- a fake badge and an even more artificial smile, and he was winding his way through the police corridors and county morgue like he owned the place.  
As he interviewed family and friends of the victims he felt a chilly calm grow in him, before he'd have cared what these people said, shown genuine remorse for their loss, but now it was just gathering facts, they weren't people, they were simply information, living, breathing police reports.  
The nest was fairly easy to find, if you knew what you were looking for. He made quick work of them, relishing the feel of heads ripped from bodies- messy, dirty, and bloody, but it made Dean feel something, he called it 'alive' but he wasn't at all sure that was even an option for him anymore.  
His thoughts turned to the last nest of vamps they'd come up against, Lenore and her clan, trying to walk the straight and narrow. And Gordon so blinded by his desire to destroy. The older hunter's words filtered back to him, 'you feel like you have this hole inside you, and it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker.' Yeah, he had a hole, large and black sucking his brother and everything he'd fought for into its depths, a hole so big he doubted it would ever be filled. Dean ground his teeth, not sure whether he wanted that darkness to fill him or not. 'It's not a crime to need your job,' came the voice of the man who had later tried so hard to kill him and Sammy. But somewhere in his mind he had to admit, the man had a point.

Hunt after hunt he killed, salted and burned, whatever was necessary and on recent occasions more than. Somewhere along the road it had become solely about the hunt, no longer about saving people. He was slowly being consumed by the hunt. Everything focused on the next witch, the next werewolf, the next restless spirit. He was following his father's footsteps, falling into an all-consuming blindness for the hunt. And if some part of his brain screamed about how wrong it was, and clawed towards what remained of his convictions, well he'd ignored it, let it get washed away the way every other meaningful thing in his life seemed to.  
But at night when his subconscious wrestled control from his waking senses, and he managed to keep the images of _that day_ at bay, he dreamt of blue eyes and a warm touch, something worth fighting for, someone who had once believed in him. More and more his dreams included the angel, even if just in passing. His subconscious cried out for him, begging as if he could stop the dangerous road he was travelling down. Asleep, his subconscious could ask for these things, things his waking self .

-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean walked up the stone pathway to the front of the house, a nice two storey home, white shudders standing out against pale blue siding. With a deep breath and a quick mental reminder of who he was, he rang the bell.

A woman in her late thirties opened the door, a sad, set expression on her face.

"Mrs. Holden?"

She nodded.

"Sorry, to bother you ma'am, but I'm agent Peterik," he flashed his fake F.B.I. badge, and continued, "I just have a few questions if I may."

As always, the woman invited him inside.

Taking out a pad, he sat on the too nice sofa, and began asking questions. They rolled off his tongue after so many years and so many names and so many victims, it was almost as if he didn't need to be there.  
That's when he first started noticing, or rather _not_ noticing. He would go through the motions, asking questions, offering sympathies, but when he left, he couldn't tell you one thing about the victim, the homes, the families. It was all unimportant. He got all the information he could and he left; the people held no more value than a newspaper or well-worn library book. There was a time when the people were the job, he knew it, he remembered it, felt it in his bones, but these days he just didn't care.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 2~~~~~~~~~

When he returned to Heaven, things were as Castiel had feared. With Michael gone and their Father still missing the angelic ranks were asunder and pandemonium was rapidly overtaking what little reason remained. Castiel returned to his garrison, knowing that at least some of the angels there would still be loyal to him and to their Father. It would be the best place to start to regain some control.

Most angels only knew "orders", they did not question; it was not what was done. They had Faith; the blind faith of the devotee or the zealot. It made for good warriors. But when orders came that could not be followed, for a battle that never came, and more recently, when conflicting orders came filtering through the chain of command, they were at a loss. Their commanders were confounded and torn, warring with each other, choosing sides based on everything from Faith to loyalty to forgotten debts; leaving the lower ranks untended and confused.  
Some took the opportunity to seize power, some wandered, and some fell into step behind new leaders- true leaders, leaders who had witnessed, who listened and heard. These were the first Castiel reached out to.

Since Castiel had rebelled, only a select few, "Upper Management" as Zachariah had called it, had known of Castiel's death at the hands of his brother the Archangel and only they were privy to his rebirth. They had kept a tight lid on the truth behind Castiel's rebellion, but this time it had been Lucifer himself who had destroyed the 'lesser' angel and all the Host knew their Father had returned his life  
His most recent resurrection had been felt throughout the Heavens, and many of the Host now looked upon him in fear and awe. He was the Returned.  
Others looked upon him as an abomination- a creature not pure enough to be angel, tainted by the essence of _humanity_; something their Father had merely taken pity on.  
Not surprisingly, Raphael was in the forefront of their numbers. With Michael locked away with Lucifer, Raphael assumed the leadership of the Host fell to him. However, he was finding more and more that with the War abated, questions were being asked. _Doubts_ were forming. Not as to Father's Plan, but as to Castiel's rebellion and who truly had authority over the Host.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Heaven was beginning to show a modicum of order again, the anarchy of the first days was all but gone.  
There were still factions, groups of angels who were uncertain what or who to believe, there was still Raphael. Castiel sighed heavily. It was a simple enough feat to determine those who had been willing participants in the plot to release Lucifer and jumpstart the Apocalypse and those who had truly believed they were fighting against it. It wasn't much more difficult to establish those who were merely following orders and those who were flagrantly distorting their Father's Will. Their punishments were simple, most were merely stripped of their rank and power and returned to the Multitudes, a few were sent to live human lives, to learn to admire Father's creations from the inside out. And a few, such as Raphael were beyond reach. Even with his new powers and status Castiel was not an Archangel and short of God, Himself, only an Archangel could punish another Archangel.

Castiel let a small part of himself flow through the Heavens, just for a moment. It was difficult not being able to purely 'exist' as the light and aether creature he was, but he had a vessel now and with Jimmy's passing he was the only one to occupy it. But that didn't mean he couldn't find moments, times when he could let his Grace run free of the flesh confines for a few guarded moments.

A soft touch flitted over Castiel's right shoulder and he snapped back to himself, fully, the long shining blade of an Archangel's sword just short of touching his throat, aiming at something behind him.

A flash of amber and a familiar smile, "I wouldn't suggest that," a bemused voice spoke to the something behind Castiel. "I'm certain you've heard how _strongly_," the voice drawled, "I feel about family."

There was a hiss from behind them and the shining blade twitched up slightly. "Gabriel."

"And here, I thought you'd all forgotten little ol' me."

"Lucifer killed you," the other angel snarled.

The Archangel shrugged, almost playfully, winking at Castiel, "It seems to be going around." He slowly moved from Castiel's side, pushing the would-be assassin away from the younger angel with his blade.

"Gabriel," Castiel breathed when he could turn to face the dead Archangel.

"I'll tell ya all about it, kiddo, once we've dealt with this," Gabriel jutted his sword at the murderous angel, nicking his flesh with it and causing the skin to sear. Righteous fury could be a physical thing in the hands of the right angels and Gabriel had eons of time to hone his skills.

"Kill me," the angel sneered. "Another will come, and another, until this filthy abomination," he gestured at Castiel, "is dealt with."

"No. I don't think so. See, Dad thought he'd made it pretty clear how he felt about Cas, here, but you, Raphael and his cronies," Gabriel shook his head in an all too condescending way, "Way outta line." He smiled at Cas, "Dad thought the 'new sheriff' could use some back-up," offering another more assured and less playful wink.


	3. Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 3~~~~~~~~~

"You know, nothing says you can't look."

Castiel snapped his head up from where he'd gotten lost in the memory of hazel green eyes. "And what purpose would that serve?"

"You'd stop moping as much for one."

"I don't mope," Castiel informed the archangel petulantly.

"Fine, you caught me, you _pine_, sorry," Gabriel's eyes twinkle unapologetically.

"We have work to do," Castiel intoned, trying to change the subject.

"We ALWAYS have work to do, Cas, it comes with the job description. 'doesn't mean there's not time for other things."

"Gabriel, please. Drop it."

"He misses you, you know," Gabriel informed his brother.

Cas snorted.

Gabriel smiled at his brother's remarkably human gesture. He'd been trying to get through the younger angel's iron exterior since he'd returned, so he counted this as a small victory.  
"He does, haven't you heard him?"

Castiel steadfastly ignored his brother.

"I've heard him. He calls for you in his dreams."

Cas froze and he swallowed hard. Much as he'd like to, he couldn't deny that Gabriel was right, that he'd wanted to look in on Dean, see his new life, a life free of the darkness, but he couldn't risk it- the distraction, the pain of no longer being needed _(wanted)_ by the mortal. "That is not funny, Gabriel."

"No, it's not," Gabriel huffed. "It's rather pathetic."

Castiel rolled his eyes, another tiny victory by Gabriel's standards- two in one day; it must have been a record. "That's enough, Gabriel," Castiel said gruffly, before he returned to ignoring the archangel.

The older angel huffed, but did as Castiel asked. Gabriel had been many things in his overly long existence, he learned many times over the value of patience, and his brother required all the patience the archangel could muster.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"C'mon, Cas, we deserve a little break after this," Gabriel wheedled. Between working their way through the ranks of the Host, the attempts on both of their lives (though those were thankfully happening less and less, the last several weeks ago, apparently having an Archangel **and** the Returned pissed at you turned many of their would-be attackers decidedly against the idea) and Cas obsessively NOT watching Dean, Gabriel figured they were entitled.  
He'd slowly been tearing down Castiel's walls, trying to teach him how to relax. He'd even managed to make the younger angel smile, something he'd only ever heard of him doing in the presence of the elder Winchester. If he had another hundred years or so, he might even get Castiel to enjoy pie, if only because Dean would've wanted him to. Gabriel knew even before his Father resurrected him that Dean was the only way to convince the other angel of anything.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Gabriel was up to his old tricks again. Apparently, returning to active duty as an Archangel didn't mean he lost his Trickster spirit. So not for the first time Castiel found himself in one of the angel's strange constructs. This one a beach with light purple waves that turned dark as they crashed and a seaside resort in the distance. "Where are we this time?" he asked his brother simply.

"Nowhere special," Gabriel replied from beneath a large floppy hat, sipping a strange, blue drink with an equally floppy miniature umbrella in it.  
"Drink?" He supplied one before Castiel could answer.

Cas had long given up on trying to get out of these little places Gabriel made for them, he knew it was best just to go with the flow until the archangel got bored or thought they'd relaxed enough for the moment. The last time he'd tried to force them to work, Barmiel's garrison suddenly became a landscape of stripe peppermint candies. Barmiel was not amused.  
What Cas would never admit to the other angel was that he was beginning to enjoy the lazy feel of his fantasies. But Gabriel knew just how much Castiel was enjoying himself; he'd watched the angel as a slow smile crept over his lips as he bathed in the sun. He knew that look, remembered it from when he was new to Earth and learning to enjoy 'life'. He smiled at the memory as much as at getting Castiel to experience it. Soon he'd have the angel laughing.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"Cas, you gotta see this," Gabriel's mirth was overflowing.

"What now, Gabriel?" the younger angel asked a sly, playful smile on his face, wondering what his brother had discovered this time. Last time it had been pillow lava that he insisted was a perfect copy of Tlazolteotl's P'an Chin-lien's breasts, he shook his head at the memory.

"Just get your angelic butt over here," Gabriel snapped.

Castiel moved to stand by his brother, "Now, wha-" Cas froze at the realization of what had the Archangel so entranced. "Dean," he whispered, reeling his senses back in, not wanting to see, afraid of what he'd find.

Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder, "You _need_ to look. I wasn't lying when I said he misses you."

"That's not fair Gabriel," Castiel growled, backing away.

The archangel tightened his grip on Castiel's shoulder, his words coming in a steady determined tone, "You need to see this."

"No, I don't," Castiel's voice shook with a barely contained tightness.

"Cas," Gabriel's tone turning uncharacteristically soft, "just look. Look and tell me it doesn't take some of that weight off your shoulders. Tell me that and I won't bring it up again."

Terrified of what he might see, Castiel shut his eyes as he turned to face the image Gabriel had brought him to.

"Open your eyes, Cas." When the other angel made no move, he added, "Trust me.'

Six months ago that statement would have made Cas' brain spin at its absurdity, but Gabriel had been right there with him these past weeks, and had saved his life on more than one occasion, so he swallowed deeply and forced his eyes open. What he saw took his breath away. It was Dean. He was in his beloved Impala, music blaring as he sped down the road. One thought permeating the very air around him- Cas.  
The angel flinched back as if he'd been burnt, but he couldn't take his eyes from the mortal. 


	4. Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 4~~~~~~~~~

Dean was barreling down the road, clocking miles at speeds that even he knew were dangerous, but he'd gotten wind of a Vetala out in northern Pennsylvania and couldn't wait to get his hands on the thing. Something solid and lethal that he could lay into. It was becoming more and more common with him. He was seeking out the wild hunts, the ones that any sane hunter would make certain he had back-up for. Hunts that before he would have at least called Bobby to let him know what was happening, but not now. Now he didn't want the _distraction_. Or so he called it. In truth, he didn't want the older hunter's voice echoing warnings and concerns in his ear, telling him not to do anything stupid, or to wait for him to get there. He didn't want safe, he wanted blood, even if it was his own.

Dean barely bothered with the police reports, he knew what he was after and he knew from the newspapers were it hunted, and where he'd hunt it. The alleys in this part of town were dark, like most of the once prosperous cities in Pennsylvania, dark alleys were an inherent part of their downfall. Once these walls were brightly lit and full of life, people roaming the streets carefree and happy, enjoying the night and the coolness it provided. Now, they only offered darkness and the possibility of a sliced throat and an outturned wallet. In its own corrosive way the city mirrored the lives of those in it. Dean found himself frighteningly at home in these alleys, darkness was part of his life, it was becoming more and more all of his life.

He understood what these recesses held. A place for secrets, for evil, for all those things that most people pretended never existed. Dean knew better. He'd always known better. He knew that most of the things in these alleyways were nothing more than the 'normal' disillusioned rejects of the modern world, but tonight he was hunting something different, something that preyed on the derelict as well as the average person. Something like him.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Once Gabriel had made Castiel peer in on Dean it was hard for him to stop. Dean was in such pain and Castiel could see the frustration in Dean's heart, the anger. Even when he'd been freshly plucked from Hell, Dean's despair hadn't been this palpable. Castiel looked over his one-time charge, who now meant so much more to him, and worried.  
It wasn't like Dean to be so callous, so single-minded. He'd always cared, no matter how much he pretended otherwise, he'd cared, even if it didn't show so much in his words, it was still clear in his actions.

"For the love of-," Gabriel stopped himself. It was one thing to take Dad's name in vain when he was on the lam and hiding from his own family, it was another when he was supposed to be 'in charge'. Gritting his teeth he continued, "Cas, brother, if you're that worried for your human go check on him. Besides, 'm sure Deano'd be glad to see you. You _were_ attached at the hip for a while there."

Castiel raised his eyes from where he'd been looking in on Dean to his brother. "It is no longer my place," he intoned stoically.

It was things like this that made working with the younger angel utterly infuriating at times. Gabriel wanted nothing more than to bitch-slap some sense into his brother, remind him that, however annoying the man might be, Dean Winchester and the angel's souls were forever intertwined, so it would _always_ be his place to be concerned for the exasperating mortal. But he also understood Castiel's reservations, they were supposed to be sorting out Heaven, the only two 'Dad' saw fit to entrust the task to- a part-time pagan god and full-blooded rebel. How times had changed, Gabriel snorted internally.  
"Suit yourself, kiddo," the archangel sighed. If this continued he was going to banish Castiel himself!

-o-o-o-o-o-

Castiel staunchly refused to invade Dean's dreams, even if only to view from the shadows, perhaps even keep some of those well-worn monsters at bay.

Gabriel, however, had no compunction whatsoever about peering in on the elder Winchester's dreams. It had been one of his first acts when back in Heaven, to locate Dean and add a small caveat to the wards Castiel had placed on him. See, despite his protests to the contrary Gabriel liked Dean, he liked both the Winchesters truth be told and had they met under less body count inducing circumstances they may have even been friends. So, if Cas wasn't going to watch over his human then Gabriel would have to do it for him until he came to his senses. He looked at it as indulging in his own little world-of-Winchester peepshow, which could be quite entertaining when Dean wasn't dreaming about his baby brother- there were some things he was never meant to witness Cas doing. That was how Gabriel came to discover just how badly the mortal was doing. Oh he'd known Dean was losing himself; it was why he'd stepped up the pressure on little brother Cas. He knew even if his baby brother didn't or hadn't accepted it yet that if anything happened to Dean it would destroy the younger angel. But even he hadn't realized it was this bad.  
Dean's dreamscape was dark, the visceral reds and browns of blood and gore. At first Gabriel had thought the man was reliving his time in the Pit… then he noticed the subtle differences that added together for a glaringly vivid picture of Dean's mind.  
For starters his dreamscape wasn't Hell; there were no flames of sulphur or walls of rotting flesh. It was bits and bobs of cities and towns all over the US, the bright orange and blue monstrosity of a stadium in Detroit, a corral that looked like it came straight out of an old spaghetti western, the stone arches of an old chapel, a house in flames, and numbers of other less identifiable houses and buildings, alleyways and dirt roads. The blood came from the piles of bodies at Dean's feet. Demons, and werewolves, vampires, and shapeshifters their bodies ripped and torn apart; arms, legs, heads, strips of unrecognizable flesh splattering the scene before him. And Dean. He was standing in the middle of the festering heap, a feral look in his eyes lost, and fueled by pain. Gabriel knew then that he couldn't wait any longer for Cas to come to his senses. Dean needed Cas, **now**!

"Cas, it can't wait. You need to go now." Gabriel tried not to scream at his brother.

"Gabriel?" Castiel asked, truly concerned over the archangel's vehemence. He'd grown accustomed to Gabriel's constant nagging about visiting Dean, but this seemed more sincere. He'd almost go so far as to say Gabriel was scared.

"Cas, he needs you," Gabriel spoke softly.

The younger angel was about to make some retort, when Gabriel broke him off.

"No. Cas, I saw his dreams." The archangel shivered. "They were twisted, broken. You have to go to him. Now."

Gabriel had never spoken with such conviction and it terrified Castiel to hear it when speaking about his hunter. With barely a nod Cas was gone, knowing Gabriel was more than capable of keeping Heaven in order while he was on Earth.


	5. Chapter 5

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 5~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, Dean," a familiar voice, rough and warm, a voice he thought he'd never hear again spoke next to his ear.

"Cas?" the hunter asked hesitantly as if he acknowledged with more than that simple word the angel would disappear again.

"You look… well," Castiel offered conversationally, stepping to face his hunter, knowing his words were a lie.

Dean snorted, causing the angel to tilt his head to an almost 45 degree angle; the head tilt he reserved for peering into Dean's soul. At least, that's how it made Dean feel.

After a few moments, Cas straightened his head, simply saying, "I see."

"'You see'," Dean mocked. "I bet you do. Hey how'd you find me anyway? I thought I was still," he waved his hands at his chest.

Cas chuckled, "You are, but as I said 'new and improved', I was able to… add a caveat, you might say."

"What, so you can find me now?"

"Yes, Dean, but you are still covered from most other angels." He hoped his admission would slip by the hunter, at least until he had a chance to tell him Gabriel was alive and protecting him.

Dean couldn't, or more to the point didn't want to look at why that thought made him feel better. "So, you just stop by to say hello or did you need me to fuck up the world again?" Dean asked in his most self-depreciating tone, trying to deflect his own emotions.

"Dean, you and Sam" – Dean flinched – "you accomplished the impossible, you saved the world."

Dean shook his head, a half-hearted huff coming from his chest. "How're things in Heaven?"

Castiel chuckled once more, a sound Dean could get used to hearing from his the angel, rolling his eyes for good measure. "There is so much to do. Half of the Host are still unsure who's in charge and whose orders to follow. Angels are very blind creatures," Cas offered thoughtfully, his tone suggesting he didn't consider himself in those numbers- a fact that made Dean smile.

"You always were different." Dean squeezed Cas shoulder affectionately- the most physical contact he'd had with anyone or thing he wasn't trying to kill in months.  
"I'm glad you're here."

The angel smiled the quirky smile that had always seemed like it would be more at home on Jimmy's face than the angel's, but somehow, maybe it was all they'd been through, but somehow that smile fit and it wasn't Jimmy's it was all Cas. "So am I."

"How long can you stay?"

"A while." Enigmatic as ever.

Dean's brow furrowed, "Really? Don't they need you cracking the whip Upstairs?"

Cas laughed, a full belly laugh. "Father thought I might need some support, especially with Raphael making so much noise."

"And?" he prodded.

"And Gabriel is 'holding the fort' I believe is the term you would use."

"Gabriel!"

"Yes, it seems I am not the only one He deemed worthy of resurrection."

Dean chuckled, "The Prodigal Sons return."

The angel cast Dean a withering look, too much of a twinkle in his blue eyes to be spiteful or even warning.

True to his word, Cas stayed, not commenting when Dean ordered a pizza, rather than dragging them out to some diner or bar. Castiel didn't like how maudlin Dean got in those places these days, so he smiled happily at the greasy meat covered bread, grabbing a piece for himself and almost causing Dean to choke in the process.

Castiel quickly came to Dean's rescue with a pat on the back and a little angel mojo, just to be sure.

Wide-eyed and still coughing, "Since when do you eat?"

"Gabriel," Cas said around a mouthful of pizza, as if that explained everything, which after a fashion it did, even Dean could agree to that. Cas swallowed and continued. "My brother has taken it upon himself to teach me the joys of the mortal world. To which he claims chocolate, strawberries, and steak are the most endearing foodstuffs."

There's something in the way Dean's wired that makes him ask the next question without thinking and before any reasonable response can escape his lips, "What, no pie?"

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Cas sat quietly, watching the world fly by around them, some band that he should've known from Dean's repertoire blaring from the Impala's speakers, and watching Dean and the way his jaw seemed just a fraction more relaxed than it had the day before, in truth more than it had in the months Castiel had been watching him from Heaven. Castiel smiled as the thought that he eased the hunter's tension washed over him, he gave a silent thanks to Gabriel for forcing him down here, maybe the archangel was right and he and Dean really did need each other.

Days passed and still Cas stayed. If Dean asked about Heaven, the angel would go quiet for a moment, closing his eyes as if concentrating. When he'd open them again, there would be a sparkle of fire in those blue eyes, and a playful smirk on his lips as he replied, "I am not needed, yet."

Dean often wondered what message Cas was receiving, but he never dared ask.


	6. Chapter 6

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 6~~~~~~~~~

Over the days Cas spent with him, Dean began remembering _why_ he hunted.  
First, they'd gone after a spectre in Wichita- the young girl the thing had been haunting threw her 7yr old arms around Dean's neck, thanking him for keeping the monster away. Then a cursed ring in Boise- the young couple whose wedding day had nearly ended with the wife-to-be possessed by a flouncing floozy from the roaring 20's begged him to stay for the wedding and reception, saying that they owed their happiness to him. And a restless Shaman in New Mexico- which no one noticed at all, but the accident rate at the construction site for the new hospital returned to the normal levels of hammered thumbs and nicked flesh.  
Seeing the relieved, thankful expressions of those he helped. Enjoying the feel of doing something worthwhile, rather than losing himself in rending the flesh of the things he killed. He was becoming himself again, a him he almost liked, a him he could live with. All the obsessive behavior of the past months began to look more and more like the thoughts and actions of a stranger. Dean knew somehow Cas was responsible for this realization, for gently reminding him with his presence what Dean was; more to the point _ who_ he was.  
He was a hunter, not the hunt.  
Strange that it took a supernatural being to remind him of that, but Cas had that effect on him, always had.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Castiel had noticed within the first day that Dean had yet to have any contact with Bobby Singer, which he of course found odd, but he assumed Dean would talk to him in his own time. It took a few days for Castiel to realize that Dean wasn't calling or about to call Bobby. In fact, he seldom if ever talked about the man who acted as a surrogate father to him. As much as any of Dean's other erratic behaviour in the months since they averted the Apocalypse that worried the angel.

When Cas first brought it up, Dean dismissed him with a curt "Haven't had the time," followed by a swift change of subject.

The next time was a softer "Just haven't".  
And on one particularly drunken night Cas had gotten a "He doesn't need me botherin' him or whining to his ass," which Cas thought was probably the most truthful of the mortal's excuses, at least in Dean's eyes.

But after weeks of cajoling (yet another behavior he'd picked up from Gabriel), Dean finally relented and called Bobby.

After several carefully placed "idjit"s and "damn-it"s Bobby was insisting that Dean come see him or that they at least meet up somewhere.

With a scathing look at Cas, who was sitting on the bed smiling like the cat that ate the canary, Dean agreed to meet in southern Colorado the next day.

"This is a bad idea," Dean grumbled for the umpteenth time.

Next to him, Cas shook his head, "Why is it a bad idea?"

"The same reason it was a bad idea the last 25 times you asked," Dean glared as if that explained everything.

Cas sighed and closed his eyes. He knew the reason Dean hadn't contacted Bobby had started off innocently enough. He was trying to separate himself from that life, even if it meant losing yet another father. But afterwards, once he'd returned to the road and the hunt, his reasons became darker. Dean was isolating himself, dangerously so, and Castiel was determined- from now on that changed.

Dean pulled the Impala into the diner parking lot, letting the engine rev for a few moments before shutting her off, taking comfort in two of the things that mattered most to him. He was worried about meeting Bobby after all this time, it was worse than when he'd clawed himself out of his own grave and had to convince Bobby he was really him. He knew how Bobby would look at him, give him his own version of Cas' soul-reading gaze. Then he'd level his dark eyes at him and ask, 'what the Hell he thought he was doing,' with an 'idjit' or two thrown in for good measure. This time he'd have to explain what he had almost become.

"Dean," Cas murmured softly, "Bobby will not judge you. You should know that."

Dean slid his eyes to the angel, not trusting himself to make full on eye contact. "How can he not?" he whispered.

A strong hand clasped over Dean's shoulder, "He loves you," Castiel explained simply.

"Cas, I let everyone who cares about me down. It's the one thing, other than hunting, I'm good at. That's not much encouragement."

"You have yet to let me down," Castiel told him.

"Didn't I? I seem to remember an alley and one pissed Angel of the Lord not so long ago," he reminded the angel.

"Dean," Castiel tilted his head shaking it slightly, "you upset me. And I did believe you would prove to disappointment me. Yet, you did not." He turned fond blue eyes to Dean, "You never have let me down, nor do I believe you could."

"Cas…"

"I believe Bobby has arrived," he informed Dean, effectively ending their conversation.

Dean followed Cas' gaze, and felt the pit fall out of his stomach as he swallowed hard. Closing his eyes, he tried to regroup his thoughts before exiting the safety of his beloved car.

Marching over to the Impala, Bobby glared, "What is it with you boys? Something happens to one of you and you forget how to use a phone!"

"Bobby, I…" Dean didn't know what he could say that would be good enough for the older hunter. Thankfully, he didn't have to.

Before Dean could come up with a sensible reply, Bobby had pulled him close wrapping his arms around the closest thing he had to a son. "You do anything that idjit-like again and you'll have more than a few spirits and monsters to deal with," he growled protectively into Dean's ear.

"Yes, sir," Dean replied, feeling the warmth of safety and family in the hunter's presence.

Pulling back, Bobby turned toward the diner expecting Dean and Cas to keep up.  
"You've been busy," he told Dean as they walked.

"Trying to," Dean hedged.

"Been _stupid_, too," he snapped, making Dean flinch. "I heard what you've been up to, don't think I haven't."

"Bobby," Dean started.

Bobby stopped and gave an annoyed hmph, "If you're gonna tell me you're sorry, don't bother. Just stop goin' off halfcocked and alone." He looked back at the angel following them, "Though I guess now that twinkletoes is back I won't have to worry about either of those as much."

"I will try to keep him safe," Castiel affirmed.

"I know you will," Bobby sighed, turning back towards the diner muttering about 'the blind leading the blind' and 'maybe they'll figure it out this time'.


	7. Chapter 7

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 7~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks and more than a few thousand miles under their wheels and Cas was still riding shotgun, and in what was becoming a common question, Dean asked once again if he wasn't needed in Heaven.

Cas' eyes closed as he worked whatever mojo it was that allowed him to chitchat with Gabriel. This time before he even opened his eyes a warm red colour crept over his face and he turned into that same blushing virgin from that night in Maine.

"Cas, man, you alright?"

The angel cast his eyes downward, looking everywhere but at Dean. "Yes. Fine."

Dean tried to catch the angel's eye, hoping to get some idea of what had happened.

Castiel, huffed a long suffering breath. "Gabriel has some very explicit ideas of what I should be doing, and on occasion he makes those opinions brazenly clear."

Dean did his best not to snort, "And what, pray tell, does big brother, the Archangel think you should be doing?"

Cas was unnervingly silent.

Dean couldn't contain his amusement any longer, "Would this be one of those 'joys of the mortal world' you said he was encouraging you to enjoy?"

Cas' blush grew exponentially deeper.

"Hey, it's okay. Gabe's just being a douchebag; it's part of what big brothers do," he reached over to squeeze Cas' shoulder, but the angel flinched back and pulled away from the normally welcome touch. A flash of anger filled the elder Winchester, whatever Gabe had said had truly upset his angel, and he wasn't at all pleased. Dean forced a smile for Cas' sake, "Listen, whatever he said isn't important. You still got time here?"

Cas nodded.

"Good. Then I say we forget about what brother dearest has to say and rustle up some burgers!"

Seeming to grab onto the idea like a life line, Castiel smiled. "I shall return," he said quickly before vanishing, only to return as suddenly as he had left with a large bag in his hands. "I believe these are the ones you were so fond of," he said handing Dean a foil wrapped burger.

"Cas, you are awesome! Don't ever change," he smiled as he took the proffered burger, and if his stomach fluttered for more than just the burger, well maybe, he could allow himself that.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

They had been on the road since daybreak, no particular reason other than Dean wanting to feel the wind and the road under him. For Dean driving was therapeutic, though he'd never think of it that way, and if he did he sure as Hell wouldn't be sharing anytime soon, oh say, the rest of his natural life. He'd skipped breakfast in favour of the early departure; he'd planned on stopping at a diner down the road, once his need to feel the road had been filled. Thing was, being on the road with Cas sitting next to him, it felt good. And a part of him hated himself for feeling, let alone thinking, that way. That was Sammy's place, and no matter how much he cared for Cas, which was much more than he thought he should, it wasn't the same, and it wasn't fair of him to want it to be.

"Dean."

When Dean looked up, it was to be trapped in the angel's curious stare. "Cas." Dean tried to look away as if that would stop Cas' studying him, _seeing_ him. Now that he had him back, Dean didn't want the angel knowing how much he needed and _wanted_ him; if anything would chase Cas off it would be knowing _exactly_ how Dean felt. Besides, how could he let himself be happy when he knew in gory detail what Sammy was going through, he knew Hell, and neither Lucifer or Michael were the type to leave his brother, either of them, unscathed.

Castiel placed a heavy hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing lightly, not saying a word.

Dean had to fight to keep from breaking down at such a simple touch. It was simple, but it conveyed so much; faith, promise, devotion, sadness, and unerring love.

He pulled off the freeway at the next exit, heading for the closest parking lot. Easing the Impala into an open parking space, he cut the engine and turned to face his angel, and when did he start thinking of Cas as his again, "Cas, don't."

Quirking his head, Castiel narrowed his eyes, "I don't understand."

Dean bit back a harsh laugh, "Exactly."

"Dean, do you or do you not take comfort in my presence?"

"Too much," Dean whispered, hoping the angel wouldn't hear him, but knowing that he would. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly.

"Then why avoid it?"

Dean chuckled sadly, dropping his head to his chest, "Because some things can't be."

Cas ran fingers over Dean's jaw, "If there is anything you have taught me, it's that anything 'can be'." His fingers brushed away the soft sob that fell from Dean's lips. Gabriel had been right; they both needed this, each other.

Dean's eyelids drifted closed, a look of resigned sadness on his face, another sob threatening to escape unheeded.

Tender hands ghosted over Dean's face, before cupping it gently and pulling him closer. Castiel's lips were hesitant, he knew this was what he wanted, but he also knew all the people Dean had been with, all the lips he had tasted, all the moves that had been made, and here he was, his first kiss, hoping that he could somehow measure up.

Dark lips parted with a gasp, a sharp intake of breath; then they began to move, slowly, tentatively as if unsure whether or not they could believe what they felt. Afraid that this taste of Heaven was nothing more than a bad dream or worse it was real and Cas would regret what he'd done and fly away for good this time. But he wasn't, not yet, his lips melded to Dean's, following his every move until Dean had to come up for air and they reluctantly parted, Dean's hands tangled in the front of Cas' trench coat as if the angel would vanish if he didn't physically hold on to him.

He was terrified and flushed as his hand cradled Dean's neck praying he wouldn't have to let go, that maybe, somehow he was good enough for his hunter. Blue eyes searched Dean's face, seeing only mirrored fear and longing in his green eyes.

Breath caught, Dean surged forward reclaiming those soft lips. A litany of 'Cas is here,' 'Cas is real,' 'Cas is _kissing_ me,' running through his head.

Cas was following his instincts, kissing and nuzzling his way down Dean's neck as Dean pulled him closer, he would have been sitting in his hunter's lap had the Impala allowed for it. And Dean so wanted Cas in his lap, writhing against him, making him feel.

Some place more private and with more room would have been to Dean's liking, even if all they did was kiss and pet, but he didn't dare break what they had going to ask for it, afraid that whatever magic had given him this would simply vanish at the first opportunity.

A light flutter of wings and they were falling back onto a bed. Cas' arms tightening around the man he loved- he didn't dare let go. Cas was now straddling Dean's hips, a position they could both more than deal with. Dean sat up holding Cas' waist beneath the layers of trench and suit jacket making sure he didn't fall from his lap.

Secure in Dean's grasp, Castiel let go long enough to shuck the trench and jacket, before diving back in for more kisses.

As soon as he'd returned to Dean's mouth, the hunter slipped a hand up to card fingers through Cas' unruly hair, causing an unexpected moan from the angel.

They kissed and held each other until Dean's touches became heavy and slowed and his lips slack. "Stay," he whispered just before sweet blackness took him.

Castiel carefully eased Dean onto the bed and under the covers; lying lazily next to him. He was surprised when Dean rolled toward him, wrapping his arm around him, his slack, sleep induced features forming into a gentle smile. Cas kissed Dean's forehead, before closing his eyes and having a talk with Gabriel.


	8. Chapter 8

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 8~~~~~~~~~

Dean awoke with his arm still wrapped tightly around Castiel's waist, his head lying snuggly on the angel's chest tucked perfectly under his chin and Cas' fingers gliding through his hair.

"You slept well?" Cas' dry voice rumbled.

"Mmm," Dean didn't trust his voice. Finally he croaked, "I thought you would've left."

"Why would I?" Cas asked, complete with head tilt.

"Angel stuff," he hedged. Besides, he had always assumed Cas went back to Heaven while he slept, it just made sense, so why would tonight be any different. He didn't examine too closely how he dreamt less or at least of less disturbing things since Cas came to visit. His dreams never got quite as dark as they had in the months before Cas' return, neither did he dream of his angel; only the lingering Technicolor memory of his brother remained haunting him, never letting him go. He also never looked at the way the angel was always right there waiting whenever he woke up, whatever time of night or day it was.

"I have told you many times, I am not needed; Gabriel is coping just fine. A resurrected Archangel doesn't have many dissidents."

"Then yesterday," as if that explained everything.

Cas' head tilted further, "You regret it?"

"What? No…" Dean closed his eyes; he couldn't believe he was admitting this, "never."

"Then why would I leave?"

Dean was quiet as he tried not to scream the obvious- _everybody_ leaves.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Castiel spent the next three days trying to convince Dean that he wasn't leaving. Unfortunately, on the fourth day he received a message from Gabriel. It disturbed him, almost as much as having to leave Dean while he dealt with it.  
He did his best to broach the subject gently, attempting to let Dean know it was not his choice to leave, but that he was needed.  
"Raphael has learnt of my absence and has begun to mount a coup. Gabriel needs my assistance; I am supposed to be running things after all." Cas smiled reassuringly at Dean, "Raphael will not be much of a threat with myself and Gabriel there. There is a certain amount of power with being resurrected before the Host. And I have Gabriel; his resurrection is no secret either." He chuckled, "We make a quite imposing pair."

Dean had smiled, shrugged, and told the blue-eyed angel to go "kick some angelic ass".

Castiel had returned his hunter's smile and vanished.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"Sorry to interrupt your Dean time, little bro, but you needed to hear this," Gabriel told Cas apologetically.

Castiel nodded, knowing Gabriel wouldn't have asked him to come back without good reason.

"Good ol' baby brother Raphael has been consolidating his allies, he approached Asteliel and I've had similar reports from several of the larger garrisons. The leaders of some are willing to follow Raphael if his show of force goes unanswered. I thought it best if we nipped this little tantrum in the bud."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" It was part of Cas' agreement to go see and stay with Dean, Gabriel would check in with him every day to discuss any issues that might need his distinctive touch.

"Uh, Dean," he gave Cas an incredulous look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You promised," Castiel chided.

"Yeah, I promised that if you were needed I'd let you know. Well, you're needed," Gabriel snapped.

Castiel rolled his eyes; trust Gabriel to play with semantics. Sometimes he was so very much like Dean it hurt. Sighing, "I guessing that means you already have a plan?"

"Don't I always?" the Archangel snickered.

Cas rolled his eyes, "Yes, but like the Winchesters' they are not always good ones."

Gabriel laughed, "True, but we both seem to get the job done."

Shaking his head fondly, "What did you have in mind?"

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Raphael paced back and forth or whatever the angelic equivalent was growling over Castiel and Gabriel (who didn't know enough to stay dead, or to at least side himself with his brother archangels). He could not understand how they had come to power. He was eldest and he had never run from Heaven and their Father. Raphael clenched his fists, calling for Pamersiel one of the highest Generals still loyal to him.  
"Are the others coming to see the folly of Castiel's control?"

Pamersiel nodded, "Many are willing to listen and will follow you if you can prove Castiel's unfit for his position."

Raphael glared at the other angel, "I am not the one who should be proving himself, that puissant little runt who thinks _he_ is the chosen of God should be!" Well, he could see to it that Castiel was usurped; he smiled malevolently, according to his latest sources the so-called commander wasn't even here and hadn't been for weeks. He was on Earth fornicating with his foul monkey.

"Of course not, but his resurrection has influenced many."

"Fine, we shall show little brother exactly what can be made of his reign, and how quickly it will end."

"And Gabriel?"

"Gabriel is not an issue; he abandoned us for life as a pagan heretic and he might as well have died as one. He is no brother of ours." Raphael was almost smug in his declarations, truly believing his words. "Enough of that, send word to our allies, we will put an end to this mockery soon."


	9. Chapter 9

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 9~~~~~~~~~

Pamersiel approached the archangel hesitantly; unsure of how he'd react to the piece of information he had to deliver. "Raphael, we have just received word. Castiel has returned."

Calmly, much too calmly, Raphael faced his General. "He has, has he? That will make this more of a challenge."

Pamersiel watched his leader in equal parts fascination and horror. A calm archangel was never a good thing, and Raphael was the epitome of that belief.

Raphael smiled, "This could work to our advantage Pamersiel. If Castiel is here he can't be guarding that damnable human." It was no secret that Castiel had returned to Earth because Dean Winchester had _needed_ him, but it was not so well known how badly broken the mortal truly was. "And _we_ know how fragile Dean truly is." The archangel laughed, "Let's see what brother Castiel's mortal is up to, shall we?" With a wave of his hand an image appeared before him, an image of Dean's dreamscape. Raphael's annoying baby brother was there, but just beyond vision Raphael saw something that put him in an absolutely wonderful mood. At the edges of Dean's dreams were the dark burning memories of Hell and of everything the stupid mortal fought against, just sitting there, waiting in the shadows to be allowed to come out and play in Dean's mind. "Oh, this is too good to be true," he chuckled. Yes, Raphael had an idea. A way to rid himself of a pesky angel and the used up human who got his brother trapped in Hell. "Let's see what happens when brother dearest is faced with a choice."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Dean's life consisted of blacks and whites, or at least it used to. Monsters and demons and things that go bump in the night were bad; the people who fought them were good. Nice black and white. Then things happened, insane hunters, angels, and renegade demons and his life got confusing. Gordon, Roy and Walt, people who were once comrades maybe even friends. Cas, Zach, Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer, the angels Sam had once thought of as holy benevolent beings, nothing but dicks with wings, even Cas. Cas had promised to come back, he had sworn it, but it had been almost two weeks without a word, interrupted dream, or flutter of wings. Dean knew he'd been blown off for more important things, namely Heaven, and how could he, a broken, filthy mortal, ever compare with that.  
He hated to admit it but he really needed the angel right about now. Within days of Cas' departure the nightmares began, bloodier and more visceral than ever. Dean tried to push them away, but their sharp edges cut sporadically through his defenses letting the desperation seep into his waking life. And he was desperate, without Cas and Sam he didn't know what to do or who he was, all he knew was the hunt. He knew that was the same road he'd been heading down when Cas had found him before, but it was the only one that felt… just _felt_.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"What is it now, Pamersiel?" Raphael was once again playing with his new toy, pushing the darkness in Dean's mind closer to the mortal's conscious and more importantly closer to his soul. He'd already convinced the man that Castiel wasn't returning, and that he'd been a fool to ever think he would. He'd barely had to lift a finger to encourage the blame he felt for Sam's death, though he couldn't help adding that little bit extra sting of having his dear brother appear to tell him it was his fault. And Dean's dear father figure, that had been a bit more of a challenge, but nothing too great; it was simply a matter of rerouting a few phone calls and faking a few messages. Dean was giving Raphael hours of pleasure, he was almost sad to lose such a fulfilling toy.

"Castiel, he wishes to meet."

"Oh, does he?" He pushed one of Dean's bloodier memories from Hell a bit closer to the surface.

"I believe he hopes to find a peaceful solution."

"HA!" He finally turned away from Dean's mind. "As if that were possible, as if it had ever been possible." Raphael stilled, "Still, where does he propose this meeting?"

"His garrison," Pamersiel answered.

"Hmm, some obscure anti-chamber I suppose," the archangel rolled the idea around trying to determine the best way to use it to his advantage.

"I believe Castiel proposed the training ground," the angel offered helpfully.

Raphael laughed, deep and rich and all the more chilling for it, "Ah, my dear Pamersiel, we couldn't have asked for better! We can show our strength publicly and he won't be able to hide behind Gabriel when he abandons his post to go running after his monkey," his laughter rolling through the paths and byways of his command.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

There were many feelings that Dean had become accustomed to during his life, loneliness and isolation were right at the top of that list. It didn't mean he had to like them, or that he dealt with either particularly well. Of course, there was fear, too, a daily occurrence for anyone raised like he and Sam were.  
As painful as it was he accepted that Cas wasn't coming back. He thinks he'd known that the minute the angel vanished, regardless of what he'd said. There was just this empty hole where the angel should have been and nothing filled it. The rush from a serious hunt and fighting for his life almost blocked out the emptiness. But Cas was back in Heaven, no room or time for a mortal, especially a mortal like him in his life.  
Then there was the other hole. The Sam shaped one, the one that was filled with hatred and self-loathing. The one that grew every night when his brother appeared in his dreams, sometimes tortured and twisted, sometimes whole and eerily calm, the way Lucifer was, telling him how badly he'd fucked up, let him down.  
It all fed the fire, the burning in his belly that screamed for pain and numbness. It wanted to destroy, to make something feel as crushed and defeated as he did because _sometimes_ it made the hurt almost bearable. It sought some kind, any kind, of release from all the sadness and despair.  
He hadn't heard from Bobby or Cas in weeks, but he just couldn't bring himself to care; there was nothing left to care about. Dean was lost and he knew it.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Gabriel wanted nothing more than to surprise Raphael by sending his troops to one of his wild Trickster play worlds, _"They're angels, not like anything I could do would cause them permanent damage,"_ he defended.

Castiel had made it clear what he thought about that.

The older angel grumbled but promised he wouldn't do anything without Castiel's direct permission.

As it was there were several garrisons at the angels' disposal. But Castiel would have none of it, not that Gabriel of all people wanted more fighting, but for once someone with common sense was running Heaven and he'd be damned if he let Cas be usurped by his blind, Neanderthal of a brother. He silently smirked at the face he knew Raphael would make at being compared to the predecessor of what he still referred to as 'mud monkeys'. If there was anything he'd learnt in his millennia on Earth it was that humans were a truly beautiful race. How could a race that invented chocolate be an abomination?

What they did do was invite all of the commanders from every garrison to witness the meeting with Raphael, whatever was decided would be decided publicly. It would also minimize the risk to themselves- Raphael was not foolhardy enough to attack either of them in public.


	10. Chapter 10

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 10~~~~~~~~~

Raphael came to the small and non-assuming garrison, his generals and several higher ranking angels trailing behind him like some crystalline heaving train. It had been Castiel's garrison before Lilith and Lucifer and the Apocalypse, so it made sense that when he returned he chose to use it as his base of operations. It was one of the many things about the resurrected angel, his sentimentality, that made Raphael so determined to undermine and overthrow his authority.  
"Castiel," he nodded curtly at the young angel.  
"Gabriel," he added as an afterthought refusing to acknowledge the Archangel's station. "Shall we get on with this?"

"Of course," Castiel replied inclining his head courteously.

Gabriel dismissed his entourage with a wave.

"We do not wish to fight," Castiel stated simply.

"Then return control of the Host to one who deserves it," Raphael's voice was like sandpaper sharpened and molded into the harshest sound an angel could contrive.

"And who would that be brother," Gabriel reminded gently.

"You are in no position to command the Host," Raphael growled at the two angels. "You," he rounded on Castiel, "your time is wasted on Earth with your broken excuse for a human. And you," he turned to Gabriel, "you just waste your time here with your silly pointless _games_."

"My _games_ are far from pointless. Knowledge is never pointless, bro. There's always a place to use it, always- it's all about the timing, when to spring the trap," Gabriel smirked.  
"And thank you, Raph, you've answered a question that's been gnawing at me for weeks," Gabriel raised his eyes suggestively then winked.

Castiel stood silently, eyes level and burning. When he finally did speak it was soft and firm, "I did not ask for this Raphael. I did not ask to be resurrected after _you_ destroyed me." These words were met by gasps from the crowd of angels Raphael had called to him. "I did not ask to be resurrected after Lucifer destroyed me. But Father saw fit to restore my life on both occasions. And once here, he saw fit to entrust my safety to Gabriel, granting him new life as well." He breathed deeply, more for the effect of calm than for need, "_He_ is the only one either of us will answer to."

Raphael raged, growling more beast than an angel. "You come here, rebel, traitor to the Host, and you presume to know what He wants. I have been second to Michael for millennia, if anyone has control here it is me."

Gabriel snickered openly at his brother.

"Go ahead and laugh brother, let's just see what your darling Cas does when his human is involved," with that Raphael snapped up a scene from Dean's mind. It was visceral and dark, if it was possible to be harsher than it had been when Cas first returned this was.

Castiel visibly shook, wings spreading out fully behind him, "I was hoping to do this amicably, but I see now you do not wish to continue that way," a sudden flash and his wings were engulfed in a vibrant deep blue and white fire.

A combined gasp spread though the assembled masses, including a sharp intake from the angel beside him. Even Raphael was dumbfounded, an angel seldom expanded his wings fully outside of a battle and he certainly didn't let them alight unless he was willing to fight to the death.

"Raphael," Castiel growled, "as Dean would say 'bring it'!" his sword sliding soundlessly into his hand.

With a roar Raphael lunged at Castiel, his own impressive wings unfurling as they tried to wrap around the younger angel heedless of the Heavenly fire burning around the younger angel's wings. "Traitor!" His sword coming down to slash at Castiel's vessel.

"I followed my conscience, Raphael, something you obviously don't have." He twirled out of the way of Raphael's blade, catching the archangel with an upward thrust. His blade slashed cleanly across Raphael's wing as it tried to close around him.

Raphael's rage was feral, making his attacks wild and impulsive, his blade flying randomly through the air.

Castiel moved with the tight calculated moves of a true warrior, his righteous fury adding to his power and elegance as he deflected strike after strike.

Raphael rolled to a defensive stance. Waiting for an opening, trying to rile the younger angel, "I'm surprised at you Castiel. I would have thought your human meant more to you. You do dote on him so."

"Dean is stronger than you think." Cas' eyes flashed, sword still steady and calculating.

"Hmph! You should have seen how simple it was to drive him to this, your precious, strong human."

The full impact of Raphael's words hit Castiel like nothing he'd ever felt or thought he was capable of feeling. It was as if his very soul had been ripped from his being. He did need to get to Dean, but this _thing_ had to be dealt with first, before he could do any more damage in Heaven or on Earth. Cas' wings flapped loudly, their colour intensifying, the heat pouring off of him hot enough to cause the closest ranks of angels to flinch back and away from their flame. "You should not have brought him into this," he spoke in a voice so soft that it spread like a scream.

Laughing, Raphael mistook Castiel's reaction for shock, and attacked, driving his sword towards Castiel's chest.

Castiel easily batted Raphael's attack away with a flick of flaming wing.

Raphael followed his attack by bringing his left wing around to catch Castiel's parrying thrust, only it never came. Instead, Raphael brought his wing full force into the flames of Castiel's blocking one. The blue flames lapped hungrily at the wing singeing it painfully causing Raphael to scream shaking the Heavens themselves. The archangel attacked in a blind frenzy of wild primal slashes and stabs, which Castiel repelled, using the momentum to catch the archangel with his own calm and calculated attacks.

When the air cleared, Castiel loomed over Raphael, his sword pressed to the archangel's neck. "No more," Castiel hissed. "There has been enough death, enough fighting between our brethren."

"I will never concede to you, Castiel," Raphael rasped, ichor dibbling from his mouth, his wings singed and torn.

Panting, Castiel's eyes narrowed, "You no longer have to." The others had now seen Raphael's true nature as well as Castiel's strength, the archangel and his followers would no longer be a threat. He climbed off of the archangel, his wings still blazing. To Gabriel he asked, "Banish him?"

"Can I do more?" all mirth was gone from Gabriel's voice. He was all for tormenting the humans, the ones who deserved it, anyway. But playing with someone the way Raphael had, playing with _Dean_, that was unforgivable. The archangel could barely contain his rage.

Castiel looked sadly at the archangel who had just tried to kill him, again, and then at the archangel who protected him and he called friend, "Don't kill him."

Gabriel smiled, there were so many things worse than death that he could do.


	11. Chapter 11

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 11~~~~~~~~~

Castiel found Dean kneeling in a pool of ichor and flesh, hands pounding at the corpse of some hapless bearwalker as he screamed into the night air. He screamed about pain, bastard angels, misplaced faith, and a brother who didn't deserve to be punished and why, so many _whys_. Castiel could only pray that Gabriel would make Raphael pay, dearly.

As Dean wailed a final pain-filled sob into the air, a set of inhumanly strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him back and away from the bloody mess. Dean only struggled for a moment, before he registered the russet shhh-ings of his angel.

"Dean. Dean, it's Castiel." The angel rocked back and forth trying to ease Dean's misgivings. "_Dean_." Castiel continued to murmur the hunter's name as he rocked them together. Once Dean stopped struggling and his cries became soft tears, the angel whisked them away to the abandoned house Dean was calling home this hunt.  
Castiel could have thought the blood and filth from his hunter but he wanted Dean to know, to feel it washing away.

Unconcerned, Castiel eased a fully clothed Dean into the old clawfoot bathtub in the house's master bath. The water miraculously still flowed through the old pipes, and Cas' will assured it was powerful and warm. He slipped the hunter's boots off before turning on the tap- he knew how much Dean loved those boots and it was easy enough to think them clean.

Dean jumped at the feel of water soaking into his clothes.

"Dean?"

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean pushed the sounds out from a too tired body.

The angel didn't reply right away, waiting for Dean to seek out his face.

If he'd had the energy or will, Dean would have gasped, Cas was looming above him with such a soft and calming expression, it took his already ragged breath away.

Cas chuckled warmly, turning the water a bit warmer, "What have you done to yourself Dean Winchester?" The angel shook his head fondly at the mortal, turning the spray of the shower head towards the man's feet, rinsing the muck from them and removing his filthy socks.

"And what, exactly, were you trying to accomplish tonight?" Cas drew the shower head up Dean's body, letting the warm spray work against the blood soaked denim.

Dean groaned, but offered no further answer.

"I am told," he said loosening Dean's belt and making quick work of his fly, "there are much better ways of expressing your anger." Castiel tapped Dean's hip, a silent command to raise them so he could remove the hunter's jeans.

Surprisingly, Dean complied without argument.

Muck and blood and entrails sluiced off of Dean's body, the red-brown goo swirling almost hypnotically toward the drain. Castiel raised the shower head to Dean's torso, running the cleansing water over his broad, hunched shoulders. "Dean," Cas whispered into his ear, "you don't deserve this. You don't have to do this to yourself."

Green eyes peered out from a blood encrusted face, their coldness speaking volumes to the angel.

Sighing, Castiel continued his ministrations, "This is not who you are. I _know_ you."

Dean flinched at Cas' intonation.

"This emptiness, it doesn't need to control you," the angel continued undeterred. "You don't need to face it alone." He laid the shower head down long enough to pull at the tail of Dean's shirt, guiding the cotton over his head.

Cas tipped Dean's head back so he could rinse the detritus from his hair and face. "You are not alone, Dean," the words a soft pitter patter mixing with the falling water.

Dean looked up into his angel's eyes, watching the blue shine, seeming to ebb and flow like the heaving of the tide. For the first time in months, maybe even before Lucifer rose, something sparked in his dark hazel green eyes. "Cas." He spoke as if all his hope and fear and loneliness, everything could be summed up in that one simple name.

The angel smiled, "Yes, Dean, always."  
Castiel helped Dean out of the bath, drying him off with gentle touches from an overly fluffed towel. "You need rest."

Dean made as if to protest, but stopped short at the determination in his angel's eyes. Instead, falling back against Cas' firm form, wariness overtaking him in a flood.

Without warning Dean felt the firm warmth of a bed beneath him, he didn't know how he got there and didn't much care. He knew all he needed to know, Cas was with him.

Maybe Cas pulled up the chair, or maybe it was already there, whichever it was Cas sat next to Dean's bed. One hand resting gently on Dean's head as his fingers carded through the man's short mousy hair. "Rest now," he soothed, his thick voice like a warm blanket enveloping Dean as he spoke. "There will be time for everything else in the morning."

As Dean's breathing began to slow and even out, Castiel whispered, "What _did_ Raphael do to you?" He brushed elegant fingers over Dean's brow, trying to figure out the mysteries of Dean Winchester.

-o-o-

The next morning Dean awoke to a warm hand resting on his head, a slim finger tracing lazy circles in his short hair.

"Morning," Castiel murmured.

"Cas?" Dean asked groggily. He was about to ask what happened, when the memories flooded him. He remembered the blood, the fleeting feeling of power, the rage. And he remembered strong arms holding him back, bringing him closer to himself. And after, his angel seeing all that filth and still washing him clean. He wasn't an idiot, he knew symbolism when he saw it. Cas was trying to absolve him. And he wanted it so badly. He wanted to crawl into Cas' open acceptance and never leave, but he knew that wouldn't be enough for him, he wanted _Cas_, and that made him feel even dirtier. Dean tried to pull away, but Cas' firm voice and quick hands wouldn't allow it.

"We need to talk, Dean," he said the familiar, foreboding words in the most soothing voice he could muster.


	12. Chapter 12a

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 12a~~~~~~~~~

Castiel waited patiently as Dean got his bearings. "You need to eat," he stated, "I believe there is a diner down the street."

Dean grunted. He was confused. Cas came back. His mind was having trouble processing this information, people left Dean, they did _not_ come back. But here Cas was, not a wrinkle on his trench coat out of place.

He stood staring at himself in the mirror wondering how he'd gotten to such a place. He'd been so lost without Sammy, then Cas had shown up and he'd almost felt normal, well, as normal as anyone with the name of Winchester could. Then there was that kiss, or day of kisses. Dean had felt so at peace, and genuinely happy. Winchesters, Dean especially, didn't get either peace or happiness, so when Cas left to deal with Raphael he'd assumed the angel wasn't coming back, at least not coming back for him.  
"I thought you said we needed to talk?"

"Yes, we do, and we will, but not before you eat something, You have enough trouble listening to me when you aren't hungry, let alone before your coffee," he answered sardonically, sitting on the bed flipping idly through one of the books the hunter took care to keep hidden from the prying eyes of his brother. Dean had an image to keep up after all.

"Sure, whatever," he answered trying to sound nonchalant, but coming across more petulant.

Cas watched from across the table as Dean lapped up the last of the syrup on his plate with a small piece of pancake and tossed it in his mouth. He looked up at Cas, expectantly. "All fed and caffeinated, now what did you want to talk about."

"Not here, at the house."

Dean glared for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, tossing some bills on the table, and heading out the door.

Once back inside, Cas slammed Dean against the wall, holding him just off the ground with one arm pressed tight across Dean's chest. "What in all of Creation did you think you were doing?"

"Cas. I…" he choked. He'd expected to look up and see Cas' hard angry blue eyes staring at him in revulsion; the last time Cas had been like this Dean had barely walked away alive. What he hadn't expected to see was fear and sadness. It broke something in his heart to know he'd somehow caused his angel that much pain. Dean went slack against Castiel's iron hold.

Feeling Dean give in, Castiel released his tight pressure on Dean's chest allowing him to touch the ground. Cas closed his eyes, his face hard as if he was trying to control some immense power. Finally, the angel opened his eyes. They were bright and wet and everything Dean never wanted his angel to feel.

"Cas?" Dean whispered so softly that he wasn't even sure that Cas would hear him.

Cas leant forward until their foreheads met. One word hung on his lips, an important, too often discarded word, "Why?"

"You were gone, Sammy's gone, why not. At least then I _felt_ something other than pain and nothingness." Dean never understood why he couldn't lie to Cas, why he didn't want to lie to him. It made him admit some very stupid things, like this.

"I told you I would return," Cas whispered against Dean's flushed cheek. "I will always return to you."

Dean whimpered, pressing his cheek into Cas' face and finding comfort in the feel of stubble, warm and rugged, against his own.

"Dean, do you not understand what you mean to me?" Cas nuzzled Dean's neck, "Every day I thought of you." He kissed Dean's shoulder. "Every day I refused to seek you out, I was sure that you were happy in your new life." Blue eyes slid closed, taking in the feel of Dean against him, moving his arm from across Dean's chest to rest his hand on Dean's hip. "I thought I had no place in your world," panted breath puffed against Dean's skin as his angel spoke. "Now, I know differently."

"Please," Dean begged though he wasn't sure what for.

Castiel seemed to understand as he pulled the hunter with him towards the bed. He shook the ever present coat and jacket from his shoulders then eased off Dean's flannel as he went. He would make certain that Dean knew what he felt, how much he was loved. He pressed Dean gently onto the bed, lying out on top of him as he continued to kiss and nuzzle his exposed neck. "You have no idea what you put me through every day," he declared huskily and without malice. "Gabriel tells me it is what humans feel constantly."

Dean opened his mouth to tell Cas that his brother was a total mood killer, but the angel shushed him with a finger to his lips.

"It is my turn to speak, and for once you will listen."

The fire in Castiel's eyes was enough to shock Dean into silence even if his words had not been enough. He nodded dumbly.

Castiel kissed lazily down Dean's neck, tugging up his t-shirt and sliding his hands beneath to touch the warm flesh. The quiet intake of breath from the mortal bringing a smile to Cas' face. He sat up, straddling Dean's lap pulling Dean's t-shirt up and over his head. He gasped at the fresh scars over his hunter's ribs and abdomen. "Dean," he whispered, tracing over each new scar with his fingertips and shaking his head. "You should not be so reckless."

Dean made to speak, but was stopped by a look from his angel.

"You are worth more than this." He kissed the first of the scars. His head tilted trying to understand how Dean could care so little for himself; this was more than his normal self-sacrificing nature. This was Dean not caring. Without a word Castiel followed the lines of scars over and around Dean's body, treating every one as if it was as precious to him as Dean himself was.

Dean flinched every time Cas kissed the healed wounds or touched them with his feather-light caress. His eyes welling with tears, the memories of loneliness, abandonment and loss all grabbing hold under Cas' loving touch.

Castiel's hand ran down Dean's face, thumb brushing at the tears that seemed to leak unbidden from hazel eyes. He let his touch slide down Dean's cheek and jaw before pulling back to remove his tie and unbutton his shirt.

Bare chests lay flush to each other as he finally met Dean's mouth in a full bodied kiss. Tongues played against each other, painting themselves with strokes and twists of desire and love. Cas' kisses moved down to follow Dean's jawline, then the long curve of his neck and down his collar bone.

Dean's hands grappled at Cas' back not wanting to let him go, even if it was only to move down his body with loving kisses and sensual touches. He didn't want Cas to leave, and he whimpered in response. He finally found purchase wrapping one hand in the angel's hair.

Working the fastenings on Dean's jeans, Cas smiled at the tug in his hair, Dean was reaching for connection, he was trying not to be alone. Cas popped open the denim pulling it down and apart enough to let the tip of his erection poke out tantalizingly.

Dean hissed at the brush of air as his cock was freed, but didn't relinquish his hold on Cas' mussed hair.

A hand reached up to Dean's, untangling it from the dark locks of his lover. Fingers intertwined and Cas pulled them down to his lips, kissing every knuckle and then the palm at the wrist.

The angel kissed and nipped his way back up Dean's chest, taking time to lavish attention on his hunter's nipples. Sucking one hard into his mouth and twirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh, taking the other between his fingers and rolling it until it was a hard nub begging to be twisted and pinched.

Moaning loudly, Dean began to writhe and squirm beneath him, wanting more and wishing he was allowed to feel these things.

As if reading his thoughts, which he may have been, Cas released Dean's nipple, "Noncf chis drilpi Madriiax. Noncf chis limlal drilpi tol. Tol glo dlugan nonce drilpi nomig ol adgt dluga," he whispered trailing kisses up Dean's body until he was breathing the last words against the shell of Dean's ear, biting it gently.

"Cas," Dean's voice cracked, his body and soul understanding the words of his angel even though his brain didn't.

"I'm here, Dean," he answered calmly, nuzzling Dean's shoulder. "I want this," his hips rocked against Dean's, "I want you."

Dean shook his head. He couldn't understand; he was damaged, no good to anyone, especially those he loved.

Cas knew how infuriating and self-loathing Dean could be, and he knew exactly what Dean was thinking. "Dean, however much you doubt your worthiness, do you also doubt me that much?" Cas knew it wasn't the kindest card to play, but he also knew it would get the most honest reaction from him.

"No," Dean breathed. His green eyes burned with inner passion and unshed tears.

The angel smiled, stroking Dean's face. He rolled his hips into Dean's giving them both a taste of much needed friction, before rising to remove the remainder of their clothes. Cas sucked in a breath, looking over the man laid out before him, once again struck by the wonder of him.


	13. Chapter 12b

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 12b~~~~~~~~~

Dean had never been shy about his body, but it usually wasn't being examined by someone who could see through him beyond the flesh and the outward marring on his skin to the lesions that covered his soul. Knowing it was Cas, his Cas, made him feel filthy and it made him squirm.

"So beautiful," the angel murmured, nestling between Dean's legs, running careful hands over his thighs and abdomen trying to soothe him.

Closing his eyes, Dean shook his head against the loving words.

"Dean," Castiel whispered, "look at me."  
When Dean made no move to open his eyes, Cas added, "Please."

The word, so softly spoken, startled Dean into looking at him. The smile and hungry glint that greeted him in Cas' eyes took his breath away. "Cas."

Castiel placed a steadying hand on Den's hip, bending forward until his mouth hovered just above Dean's throbbing flesh, teasing for a moment before running his tongue along the underside and eliciting a blissful cry from his hunter. Only to have it be strangled off when Cas took the full length of him into his mouth.  
As Castiel worked his mouth enticingly over Dean's cock, experimenting with pressure and swaths of his tongue, licking the pre-cum from the slit, he slowly began to tease himself slicking a finger and circling his entrance. Pushing against the tight opening with every down stroke onto his lovers' shaft. When his finger finally pushed inside, a vibrating moan ricocheted through Dean's body causing an answering cry.

Castiel only faltered for a moment before picking up his previous pace, thrusting onto Dean's cock as he thrust into himself, loosening the muscles to take a second and eventually a third finger.

With a powerful suck he pulled himself from Dean's flesh, taking a last taste of pre-cum as he went. Cas moved to straddle Dean's thighs, one hand pressed to his chest, the other firmly holding Dean's erection as he lined himself up to be filled and stretched.

Suddenly, Dean's warm finger's wrapped around Castiel's wrist.

Castiel's eyes locked on Dean, worried; wondering what had made the hunter react so.

Dean held the wrist firmly as he shook his head; the movement calm and sure, and so unlike his reactions from earlier. Cas had told him he wanted this and to believe him. He'd lavished words and love and _feelings_ on him and somewhere in there Dean had begun to let himself accept what Castiel, Angel of the Lord, was giving him. And now, he needed this, needed to be the one to give, and right or wrong he _wanted_ it, wanted to give himself to Cas. The angel already owned his soul, his very being, and Dean was finally ready for him to take his flesh. "Take me."

The angel cocked his head, studying Dean, weighing his words. He released Dean's erection and slid down to rest on Dean's thighs a slow, soft smile spreading over his face. He knew what this meant to Dean. It was a turning point, a crux of power and trust, now he had to show Dean what it meant to him. Long graceful fingers ran along Dean's face and down his chest. "Droln glo bagle nonca," he stared hard into Dean's eyes, knowing the man understood.

Dean released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his whole body relaxing with the exhalation. The fingers wrapped around Cas' wrist relinquished their hold, instead tracing circles on the underside of the angel's wrist causing Cas to shiver ever so slightly and Dean to smile at his reaction.

Castiel slipped his knees between Dean's legs, loving the trust and the way Dean opened himself up for him, lifting himself to rest his legs around Cas' waist.  
Silently, Cas slicked his fingers. He teased and caressed the small patch of skin behind Dean's balls, dipping along the puckered flesh of his entrance.

Dean's breath hitched, the touches sending sweet shock waves throughout his body.

Easily, Cas pressed his finger into Dean's relaxed body. His hand stroked along Dean's stomach, a soft, soothing counterpoint to his invading touches. Soon he was able to add a second finger, curling his fingers and stretching the firm muscles, pumping them in and out of Dean's body in a slow infuriating rhythm.

"More," Dean hissed, a plea as much as a demand.

Nodding once, Cas pressed a third finger into Dean's willing body, working them gently to fully stretch him.  
With a twist and curl of his fingers, Cas pulled out of his lover, adjusting the angle of Dean's hips, arching them as his legs tightening around Cas' waist.  
Cas lined himself up with Dean, slowly pushing into him, the tight muscles giving way easily. Castiel's breath stuttered as he tried to control himself amidst the overpowering feelings rushing through his human body.  
Finally, he slid home, flush against the hot skin of his lover, Dean's legs impossibly tight around him. They both froze. The feelings almost too much for them both. But then Dean's legs pulled the angel closer, deeper as they clamped around him. Cas made short little, experimental thrusts, eliciting small gasping whimpers from his lover. As he pulled back and out of Dean he shared the moan of loss that fell from Dean's mouth, and the matching moan of pleasure as he pushed back in.  
Cas watched their movements carefully, as if he was amazed and awed by their lovemaking. There was something beautiful about the joining, of seeing himself disappear into his lover, to know that however fleetingly he was physically a part of him. The knowledge made Cas shiver violently, his control slipping as the thought consumed him. In these moments he was part of Dean as close as any one human being could be to another. This was Heaven. "Noas la," he whispered quietly, bending down to kiss his lover swallowing their moans with warm open-mouthed kisses.

Dean's hands, which before had been clawing mindlessly at the sheets, now clawed and gripped for purchase on Cas' back causing the angel to arch back into the touch.

Their bodies writhed together, Dean's hard cock trapped between them creating sensations neither had felt before. The smooth friction of Cas' skin against the velvety flesh, the dribble of pre-cum slicking their skin, the feeling of each other, it was quickly becoming more than either could bear.

Sitting, Castiel pulled Dean's hands into his own, lacing their fingers together and holding on as if his very existence depended on this connection with his hunter.

Dean's blunt nails tried to dig their way into his angel's flesh, grabbing him, claiming him in some small way as his own. This, this meeting of body and soul, was everything Dean needed to believe. Cas was his. He was claiming him with every movement, every touch. Dean had given himself to his angel and for the first time in his life he felt free, Cas had him, would always have him and Dean let himself succumb to the feeling.

Eyes locked each staring into the bare soul of the other, each seeing themselves reflected and accepted in the other. Soon, their thrusts became erratic, bodies pounding and squeezing, until Castiel exploded inside Dean's tight body.

Dean's name screamed from Castiel's lips as his cock twitched and pumped spurts of hot burning cum inside his lover.

Warmth filled him, spreading through him as his own release slammed into him, thick white strands of cum shooting between their bodies, painting both of them in trails of sticky cum.

Cas fell forward seeking out Dean's mouth, kissing him lazily as they both came down. Something in those lazy, wonderful kisses and the way his arms fit around his angel as Cas curled into Dean's side made Dean feel strong in a way he hadn't in months. Dean knew he wasn't okay, but he was better and he _had Cas_.

Castiel stroked Dean's chest thinking away the mess they'd made as his hunter smiled dreamily and began to doze. Sliding his hand to the scar he'd left on Dean's arm, fitting his hand perfectly over the coloured flesh, he whispered against Dean's chest, "Ozien, paid."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o  
LOOSE TRANSLATIONS FOR MEANING, NOT NECESSARILY WORD FOR WORD:  
-Noncf chis drilpi Madriiax. Noncf chis limlal drilpi tol. Tol glo dlugan nonce drilpi nomig ol adgt dluga.  
You are worth more than the Heavens. You are loved more than life. You deserve more than even I can give.  
-Droln glo bagle nonca  
Anything for you  
-Noas la  
We are become one  
-Ozien, paid.  
Mine, always


	14. Chapter 13

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 13~~~~~~~~~

Dean awoke to a solid warmth against his back and an arm wrapped tightly around his waist. He squeezed his eyes shut, as a flood of feelings he didn't know what to do with engulfed him. Cas had stayed. Cas loved him. Cas just… was. His closed eyes relaxed, having never quite opened, as he let himself fall into his angel.

Castiel smiled, Dean's spiky hair tickling his lips, while his fingers ran through the short strands.

"Cas," Dean finally whispered.

"Yes," nuzzling Dean's neck.

"Don't leave."

Cas smiled, "Gabriel has everything under control and Raphael is no longer in a position where he can threaten us."

"Good," Dean answered, pulling Cas' arm tighter around him. He didn't care if he was _cuddling_, there was no one to see it anyway.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Castiel hated seeing Dean like this, bruised and bleeding, but it was becoming more common. It wasn't that Dean was falling back into that reckless hatred that had tried to consume him- Cas had seen to that, he'd spent the first week after Raphael's defeat fixing the damage the archangel had done to Dean's psyche. No, these injuries were purely from hunting. Nasty things getting the upper hand for a moment before Dean could dispatch them. The mistakes were simple, the kind he'd never seen Dean make, even at his worst. Cas ran a hand gently over Dean's wounds watching as they disappeared beneath his touch.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean whispered half asleep.

The angel smiled, kissing Dean's forehead, "You are quite welcome." Shucking his clothes, he slid into the bed beside his sleeping hunter, pressing up close to him, molding his body to Dean's.

Even with his presence, Dean's sleep was restless. Cas expected it. Dean's sleep had always been fitful, especially after losing Sam, but this was steadily growing worse. Dean tossed about, pushing and fighting with non-existent creatures, and moaning and whimpering in pain, every so often Sam's name escaped his lips. It was easy to guess what Dean was dreaming about and it didn't matter how close Cas held him, how many reassuring words or calming touches he offered, nothing seemed to ease Dean's discomfort.

Cas didn't approve of spying on Dean's thoughts and dreams, although he couldn't deny how glad he was that Gabriel had, but right now he was tempted to. He would have to speak to Dean in the morning; see if he could get the stubborn man to admit what was troubling him- somehow he doubted his answers would be easily won.

-o-o-

"Dean?" Cas wasn't sure this was the best way to broach the subject, but he needed to know what was wrong with Dean if he ever hoped to be able to help him.

"Hmm," Dean continued putting his boots on waiting for his angel to speak.

"Your dreams are getting worse. Are you sleeping well?"

Dean looked at Cas as if he'd grown a second head, knowing his angel never asked such simple questions without already having the answer.  
"Why?" his voice shook.

"You're sleep has been uneasy for weeks. It is affecting your ability to hunt. You need rest Dean."

Dean closed his eyes, not sure if he was ready to have this conversation. He'd finally accepted how Cas felt about him, that he was truly loved by the angel. He still questioned it; he wouldn't be Dean if he didn't, but he actually believed Cas when he said he loved him and would always come back. It's why his current dreams seemed almost like a betrayal.

"Please Dean, I want to help." His deep voice nothing more than a breath on the air as he sat beside his hunter.

"Cas, I…" he shook his head, how could he tell Cas that his dreams were filled with images of his brother and the things Lucifer would be doing to him. Dean had been there, he knew what Alistair could do, and how much more Lucifer himself could. "I just need time on this one, okay," he pleaded.

The words and the way Dean was so reluctant to tell him what was bothering him was enough to tell the angel he was right about what it was, or rather _who_ it was.  
Cas smiled fondly at the man he loved. "I love you, Dean Winchester and I will do anything in my power to make you happy," he peppered kisses along his neck, snaking his arms around Dean, distracting him from the discomfort he'd caused with his questions.

Dean leaned back into Cas' embrace. "I am such a bad influence on you," he teased.

Castiel buried his face in Dean's neck, breathing in his hunter. Now that he knew what was troubling Dean, Cas knew what he needed to do and the one person who could help him.


	15. Chapter 14

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 14~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel stared at his baby brother, openly gaped at the words that had just left his mouth. He had been waiting for them, or something akin to them, but he'd never expected the soft, earnest request. He'd expected an order. Castiel might have been his younger brother and he might not be an Archangel, but he was still the one Dad had left in charge, which meant Castiel had the authority to _order_ Gabriel to do this. Yet here he was standing in front of him _asking_ him. The older angel held back his normally harsh and snarky remark, instead, placing a strong hand on Castiel's shoulder, the tawny haired angel smirked, "What do you think I've been working on since you've been gone, my tan?"

Castiel looked into his brother's honey eyes, head tilted, "What reason would you have?"

"Pssh, because I know exactly how dysfunctional those two are without each other, and the only way Deanie-boy is gonna let himself be happy is with his brother intact and not simmering quietly in the bowels of Hell."

Castiel quirked an eyebrow, still unsure. He'd been planning exactly what he would say, what he was willing to offer to get Gabriel to agree. He knew from his own experience collecting Dean that those parts of Hell were not simple places to get into or out of. And this wasn't merely _the Righteous man_ this was the one true vessel for Lucifer. They couldn't expect Sam to be sitting on the outskirts of Hell waiting for someone to pluck him out.

"Cas, I'll do it," the former Trickster assured.  
"Look," he waved Castiel over to him, "there's a lot of fighting going on down there, mostly between Michael and Lucifer. It's better than Friday Night Fights. And," the angel raised a finger to accentuate his words, "it seems neither of them is fond of wearing their vessels, especially since they aren't needed down there any more than they are needed up here."

"Adam?" Castiel asked simply.

"Don't know, but I'll try."

Turning to face his brother, he asked, "Why?" searching his eyes for an answer.

"You're my brother," Gabriel shrugged.

Castiel smiled at that. Not for the first time was he struck by how similar Gabriel and Dean were, how much family mattered to them, and how brazenly they tried to hide behind big words and actions. But far be it for Cas to call either of them on it. "Thank you."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Gabriel poured over the reports and rumours, gathering as much information as he could before the assault. And it would be nothing less than an assault, a very detailed and strategic assault. There may have been a pocket of nothing surrounding his fighting brothers, their own Grace having flared and burned destroying everything demonic near them, but there were still levels of Hell to pass through. Although thanks to one deal making demon, ways had been found around and through many of those levels. These were his 'games' as Raphael had called them, he chuckled to himself, information had flowed so much easier once his brother had been dealt with- it would seem he had found the wrench in the works.  
All that remained were two of the blackest, darkest places in the Pit. Dean had been as far as any still human soul had ever been, below that were levels that even demons feared, and somewhere down there was the essence of at least one Winchester, and Gabriel _would_ get him out.  
With a heavy sigh Gabriel turned to his baby brother, "We can do it, but it'll be dangerous, very dangerous. None of us have ever gone this far. Lucifer's cage is at the base, the very foundations of Hell."

Sometimes it worried Castiel how serious and commanding Gabriel could be, but more often than not it merely reminded him of the power and dignity hidden beneath the archangel's playful Trickster mask and made him smile.  
"I know. I will go to the garrisons and request volunteers. This is not something we can 'order' them to do."

Gabriel smiled and nodded to his brother, he'd never admit it, but he was proud of Castiel. While all his other brothers and sisters fought amongst themselves or followed blindly- the very things that drove him away eons ago- Cas thought and cared.

Castiel went to every garrison individually, explaining the mission to the amassed ranks. They would be going into Hell, not for Michael, the Great Warrior, but for Samuel Winchester, vessel to Lucifer and the man who had derailed the Apocalypse. It would be hard fought, and it was up to them whether or not it was worth the fight.

There had been so much fighting already, first to save Dean, then defending the Seals, and finally the preparations and skirmishes before the main event of the Apocalypse. And now this mission, one that was almost assuredly a suicide mission and the Returned was asking for volunteers.

When Castiel returned to his garrison, he was unsure if any of the angels he'd spoken to would find the fight worthwhile and truly he couldn't blame them. And it didn't surprise him when Gabriel came to him in a whirl of activity.

"I don't know what you did, little bro, but half the Host is here and more are coming."

Castiel looked momentarily worried, until he saw how relaxed Gabriel was- he'd gotten pretty good at telling the difference between Gabriel's facades and his true feelings. "Why are they here?"

"Why do you think? They're here to help bust out your second favourite Winchester."

Castiel's eyes widened, "All of them?"

"Well, we asked who was here for the cake and no one wanted any so _yes_."

"Why?" Castiel asked, still unbelieving.

Gabriel took pity on the younger angel, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Because they believe in you."

The concept was foreign to Cas, he was used to having faith, but to have faith in him? The only one who'd ever had faith in him was Dean.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"I can't let you go," Gabriel insisted in a voice that rang with all the authority of God's Messenger.

"I'm going whether you like it or not," Castiel stood firm.

Gabriel threw his hands up, "What is with you! People spend more than 24hrs with the Winchesters and suddenly they lose all sense of self-preservation!" The archangel was furious; this was a dangerous enough mission without having Castiel tag along.

Cas smiled slyly, something he'd picked up from both his brother and his hunter, "It's not about my safety, it's about our brothers and sisters accompanying us on this mission. It was I who asked this of them, and unlike Michael and Raphael, and even our Father," Castiel realized how close to blasphemy this came, and took no small satisfaction at the shock that momentarily flashed across Gabriel's face, "I will not send them in my place. I **will** go with you."

Gabriel shook his head in that age old 'you're a fool but I know I can't talk you out of it' way. "Okay, but don't go wandering off," he snapped. "We're leaving within the hour."

Castiel nodded and went to speak with Dean. 


	16. Chapter 15

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 15~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Cas," Dean smiled, greeting the angel who appeared in the passenger seat of the Impala.

"Dean," he replied, wanting to kiss Dean senseless before he went off to try to rescue his brother, "Pull over."

Dean raised an eyebrow at his angel, "Everything okay?"

"It will be." Cas sighed as Dean pulled the Impala into a Scenic View pullover. As soon as he'd cut the engine, Castiel pulled Dean to him, kissing him deeply, slowly, the way he did when they were making love. "I must deal with some… issues. I may be gone a while and I need to know you will be alright until I return."

Dean's eyes closed and Cas could feel the tension and war going on in his head, he knew Dean was fighting the ingrained reaction of abandonment. "Promise me you'll do that again."

"I promise," the angel swore.

"You know, any other angel and I'd think you were lying."

"Good thing I'm not any other angel." Castiel moved to whisper in Dean's ear, "I'm _your_ angel."

They stayed like that, heads bent and pressed together as Cas waited for Gabriel's call.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"Did you tell him?"

"Of course not, it would only worry him, and he would want to accompany us."

Gabriel tilted his head at his brother, "You are a truly amazing creature, Castiel."

Now it was Castiel's turn to cock his head curiously.

"Most people would have told him, given him the hope."

"If I did that and we were not successful it would have destroyed him, and I don't know if I could guide him back yet again."

Gabriel smiled wanly at his baby brother, so logical and loving even in the face of what was to come. It was no wonder he was the one their Father had chosen to lead them.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

They talked of Hell and it's 'levels' though in actuality its levels were more like the shock rings of an earthquake or the ripples of a pond after a stone had been tossed in. Circles and effects seen for miles expanding with the harsh, unforgiving, pain-hate-darkness at the center of it. Anyone going into Hell passed through these levels, and could feel the changes in heat and intensity, some sudden and some subtle, but all there and keenly felt by the older angels.

Gabriel's plan was a simple one; they would take a relatively small group of angels with them, just over 500 in total, under Castiel's command and sneak through the upper levels of Hell, leaving a small detachment of angels at varying intervals to guard their passage back. They would do this until they reached the Pit, the furnace of hate where Castiel had snatched Dean's soul from the darkness and carnage that surrounded him. After that it got tricky. Not only were there the last levels of Hell to pass, but there was the escape.  
They knew that once Gabriel reached Sam, the hordes of Hell would come searching for them attempting to block the escape of their Master's true vessel. Each mass of troops was reminded of this fact and given a final chance to return to Heaven without question. None of the angels hesitated, taking up positions along the escape route; knowing that whatever happened these byways had to stay open.

Thanks to Crowley's information the first half of the plan went relatively smoothly, only proving difficult when they ran into a group of demons searching for a quick exit into the world. But their numbers, though barely above 100 at that point, quickly and quietly dispatched the demons.

As they approached the Pit, that burbling cesspool where Dean had spent 40 long years, Castiel grimaced at the image still so fresh in his unfading memory. Here they met their first true, organized resistance. The Pit was the darkest place for human souls, and more guarded and populated than the others. The remaining angels fought valiantly, holding back the hordes and protecting their means of escape.

Castiel almost didn't notice Gabriel approach him. "Cas, you have to stay here."

"Gabriel," the angel's voice warned.

"You want me to save him, then you will listen to me. From here on it gets bad. The kind of bad you could only dream of. This makes Dean's nightmares look like kiddy films. You could never make it. You know that. It's why you came to me in the first place," Gabriel's voice so forceful it cut through the din and frenzy of the vestiges of battle that still raged around them. "Let me do this, Cas." He could see the change in his brother's demeanor. "I'll bring Sam back."

"And you," Castiel demanded.

"I'll bring us both back, little bro. 'sides not like I can leave you to run Heaven alone, someone's gotta be there to keep you from doing anything stupid." He smirked and disappeared into the fray and down into the final layers of Hell.


	17. Chapter 16

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 16~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel had hoped that being only one angel, his Grace encased in a human shell, would help conceal him. After all archangels weren't unheard of down here, only they were usually caged up like the animals they could be.

The lower levels of Hell were every bit as horrible as he'd thought, and more. The reds and browns and sickly blacks of blood coated everything. Things that could only be described in a way the human mind could interpret as walls were rough and ragged and pulsing like a living, breathing, blood red nothing. All through these depths demons, figures so twisted that even that description was a laughable comparison, hung from the walls, smiling through distorted apertures that may have once been mouths or possibly nothing but flesh millennia ago as the meat was cut, torn, and cleaved from what ostensibly were their bodies. One creature hung mere feet from where Gabriel passed, what once had been a face was misshapen into ribbons of minced flesh. The area where its body should have been was nothing but a butchery of intestines and organs and some unrecognizable film. Gabriel forced his vision away from the thing on the wall and pushed on deeper into the darkness.

This area was barren, a wasteland inside a wasteland. It wasn't the fires of the Pit that created such hollowed out sterile surroundings. It was the battle running full force at its center. Once, not long ago, this place would have been ripe with the disfiguration, hate, and pain of the ones above. This was where he would begin his search, in the destitute landscape that stretched out endlessly. He knew Sam would be somewhere between here and Lucifer's cage. The only thing that could possibly survive after Lucifer and Michael began their fight would be their vessels. Their vessels had to be strong enough to hold the angels' Graces and being their _true_ vessels (at least in Sam's case) they would have some resistance to the fiery explosions of Michael and Lucifer's warring Graces, even without the angels riding them.  
Hesitantly, Gabriel let his Grace stretch out in tiny wisps, seeking any sign of the human soul he was looking for. He had to move slowly, never letting his Grace expand too far, the ripple of power so close to his brothers would eventually draw their attention and that was not something he was prepared for yet. He let his Grace guide him, the passageways between these levels were all unguarded so he could move with cautious ease across the deserted landscape. As he closed in on the farthest edge of the dismal plain he felt a pull on his Grace, a soft hum reaching out to him. His Grace twitched in surprise and he hoped he was far enough away for the brief spike in power to go unnoticed.  
The hum remained, and Gabriel let it guide him to the scorched terrain one step closer to his brothers' cage. The hum was stronger here. It pulsed openly and Gabriel had to rope in his Grace to find its source.  
Another step closer and he could feel his brothers, their Graces pushing at the fabric of the worlds around them. Fighting. Always fighting. But it wasn't them he was here for. It was for someone far more precious. With Michael and Lucifer so close, he had to rein in his Grace once again, but by now the hum had grown into something more resembling a scream, a beacon he could follow. He knew it was Sam, he'd know that fiery soul anywhere.

Lucifer felt it first, another angel just on the outskirts of his cage. He pushed out with a mass of strength holding Michael in check as he sent a sliver of his Grace to seek out the other angel. Within seconds he'd found him, his baby brother, the one he'd killed months ago. "Gabriel," he hissed.  
He had no idea how the angel was alive, but he knew the only reason Gabriel would be this deep into the bowels of Hell- he was after Sam. Sam was still _his_, he would need him once he crawled back out of here. No way was his pesky baby brother going to take his vessel.

Moments after Lucifer's hissed call of their brother's name, Michael felt the thrum of energy from the archangel's Grace. Even after untold eons, he knew his little brother, Heaven's Messenger. He'd felt Gabriel's destruction, how could he be here?

The burning call from Sam's soul led him to the mortal; his body worn and broken, but the eyes. He could see Sam was there, buried deep inside. "Sam," Gabriel's human voice was ash and rough and barely more than a rasping of kindling waiting to ignite. He wrapped his Grace around Sam's body knowing his soul was secure inside.

Lucifer lashed out, he might not be able to leave the confines of his cage, but he knew if he focused his Grace and pushed hard enough he could strike out.

Lucifer's Grace slammed into Gabriel hard; he barely had time to shield Sam as he screamed, his angelic voice shaking the air, Lucifer's strike slashing into his vessel. But as soon as the powerful energy hit him it was jerked back.

Michael reacted, instantly and unhesitant, striking a harsh blow to Lucifer's exposed wings; pulling his attention back to the battle at hand and away from Gabriel and his cargo.

Gabriel took the opening Michael had given him and flew towards the Pit and Cas and the battle that would await them there.

Castiel was waiting for them when Gabriel arrived with his package. "Gabriel?" the angel asked in concern.

The flesh of Gabriel's vessel bore four clean slices down the length of his back, blood dripping in a steady fall from them. "I'll be fine," he panted. The main force of the wounds were to his vessel, his true self was only scraped by the attack, still it would not heal easily, his outer wings sporting shallow cuts that aligned with those on his back. "Besides, got what we came for," his honeyed eyes twinkled.

Cas nodded, "We hoped that was the cause of the sudden chaos. We've managed to keep the passage open, but we must hurry."

As they rose through the outer regions of Hell they could feel the demons pressing closer and closer, almost a tidal wave of pressure pushing them onward. This was nothing like when Castiel had rescued Dean; there had been hundreds of thousands of angels to stand between him and the demons then. Now there were possibly 300 angels strewn through the levels with the legions of Hell weighing down on them.  
They were over halfway through, when the worst of the fighting hit. The handful of angels left on guard had been overrun by a veritable legion of demons. Thankfully most of these angels had fought through Hell once already, they were seasoned, they knew this battle. They fought with the kind of ferocity that distinguished them as Warriors of God.  
When the others arrived, the angels were engaged in a fierce battle, the bodies of both angels and demons were strewn over the battlefield.

Castiel turned to Gabriel, "Go," he growled.

"No," he couldn't believe what Cas was suggesting.

"Gabriel, there's no time to argue, you need to go, get Sam out of here," the younger angel insisted.

"Are you crazy? There's no way I'm leaving here without you."

Cas looked at his brother fondly, "I listened when you ordered me to stay because you knew I wouldn't survive the furthest reaches of Hell. Now, you must listen to me. You are the strongest and fastest. You _will_ get Sam to safety."

He wasn't happy, but he knew his brother spoke the truth. He was Sam's best chance. "What about you?"

"I will follow with the others, shortly."

"Good 'cause Dean'll kill me if you don't come back," he tried to put as much playfulness in his words as he could, but Cas understood.

"_If_ I don't make it Dean will be alright," he admitted sadly. "He'll have Sam."

Gabriel recognized Castiel's words for what they were- the biggest load of hog-hooey he'd heard out of anybody's mouth in eons, excluding Presidential elections and fundamentalists, but he nodded and left, Sam still protectively swathed in his Grace.


	18. Chapter 17

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 17~~~~~~~~~

Castiel blew into Heaven, more than a little worn and ragged from their escape from Hell. He'd seen that the remaining angels got to their garrisons or the medical attention they needed. Not much could damage an angel, but Hell and its denizens weren't your average things. "Gabriel?" he called feeling the archangel nearby.

"In here."

The flood of relief that ran through him at his brother's voice was surprising, even to him. He found Gabriel kneeling over Sam's body, "How bad is it?"

Gabriel looked up at his brother, noticing his vessel's ribs were cracked and broken in several places along with his arm, and his leg had seen better days, and snorted. Fortunately the majority of Cas' injuries seemed purely outward. "Well, you won't be winning any beauty pageants like that."

Cas gave Gabriel a sly not quite annoyed look from under his lashes.

Gabriel didn't miss a beat, before answering Cas' original question. "He should be a blathering idiot, well, more than usual." Gabriel's flippant tone and the obvious smirk in his voice told Castiel more than any words could. "But he's not, he needs a bit of work," he looked over his shoulder at the younger angel. "Could use your help."

Cas, injured as he was, was at Gabriel's side in an instant.

Gabriel smiled, "Just wanna make sure all those synapses are there to zap to it when he's ready."

Cas smiled at his brother, he'd already done so much, even knowing how little the Winchesters thought of him, but what he'd done and was doing, he was doing for family- just like Dean would.

He must have chuckled outwardly because, Gabriel was asking, "What's so funny?" with a concerned look on his face.

"You," Cas admitted, still smiling.

"I am awesome aren't I," the former Trickster smirked causing Castiel to laugh outright, before composing himself back to the task at hand, namely rebuilding Sam Winchester.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"Hey there, Deanster, how ya doin'?"

Dean looked around for a moment looking for the annoying archangel. "Gabriel?" he asked angrily.

"Who else would be talking to you through your stereo? You really need to update your music. You do know half these people are dead?"

"What do you want, Gabe?"

"I come in peace, Dean-o, just delivering a message from your favourite angel," he answered jovially.

"Cas? Is he okay? What happened?" Dean's voice was starting to get a touch of frenzy, Cas had been gone for almost two weeks without a word and now Gabriel was delivering messages. It made his stomach sink.

"He wants you to meet him at Bobby's as soon as you can." With an audible pop the radio went back to static.

Gabriel's non-answer wasn't lost on Dean.  
"Gabriel," he shouted. "What the Hell happened to Cas?"  
Dean grabbed his phone, dialing Bobby's number, his breath caught in his throat as every possible scenario and a few impossible ones filled his vision.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

Dean was about to hang up and try again, when Bobby's warm voice answered, "Hello?"

"Bobby! Christ man give a guy a heart attack," Dean huffed into the phone.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Bobby asked.

"Is Cas there?"

"Why would your angel be here? Shouldn't he be with you?"

Dean tried to stay calm, at least whatever happened Cas wasn't hurt badly enough to seek asylum at Bobby's. "Gabriel," Dean answered simply.

Dean could hear Bobby's brow furrow as his eyes pinched together, "What does _that_ featherbrain have to do with anything?"

"He told me Cas wanted me to meet him at your place."

"Well, I ain't seen your angel or anybody else's since the last time you visited." Bobby was getting a little confused, but given what the archangel/Trickster had done to the boys in the past it didn't surprise him. More gently he asked, "That mean ya coming?"

"Yeah Bobby, be there in a couple hours."

Bobby grunted good-naturedly and hung up the phone. The moment the phone was in the cradle, the air shifted and Bobby turned, "What the Hell!"


	19. Chapter 18

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 18~~~~~~~~~

It took a lot to fluster the old hunter, he'd been around long enough, and around the Winchesters long enough that not much surprised him anymore. But the sight of a beaten and bruised angel carrying the still form of one Sam Winchester covered in soot and something he assumed was blood was enough to throw even Bobby off his game.  
He thought about asking the angel what happened, but it seemed rather pointless. Instead, he approached the pair, placing a hesitant hand on Sam's head. "Is he?"

"The journey was hard on all of us, but given time he should recover," Castiel said solemnly.

Bobby visibly relaxed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, come on then, don't just stand there, the spare room's upstairs on the right."

Castiel nodded and left with his cargo.

Bobby watched as the angel set Sam down on the bed gently, "I'll get some water; you two need to clean up."  
The hunter returned a few moments later with a cloth and a basin of warm water, and began dabbing at the soot covering the younger Winchester's face.

"He's very strong," Castiel soothed, "the mere fact that Lucifer didn't destroy every part of him attests to that."

"Yeah, but how much damage did he do?"

"A great deal," the angel admitted. "That's why we didn't return straight away. Gabriel and I had to …rebuild parts of his mind."

Bobby looked up skeptically, "Rebuild. He's still him though, right? I'd hate to have to get used to _another_ one of these damn fools," he snapped, hiding his true concern under a cover of bravado.

Castiel smiled to himself, "Yes Bobby, he is still Sam."

"Hmph, couldn't have cleaned him up while you were at it," Bobby groused.

Smirking, "We were a bit preoccupied. I could do so now, if you wish."

"No," Bobby snapped a bit too quickly. He returned his attention to wiping Sam's face, "I started, I might as well finish."

Castiel nodded and disappeared downstairs, leaving the man alone to tend to his surrogate son.  
He winced as he sat on the worn couch in Bobby's living room, the bruises and injuries to his vessel were deep, a human vessel was not designed to see those levels of Hell, and it would take time to heal, but he would heal.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Dean came bursting through the doorway to Bobby's house, "Bobby? Cas?" he called frantically. He knew Bobby had said Cas wasn't here, but that was two hours ago. Two hours was a long time. Two hours that he'd spent alone with his own Hell-tinted imagination- there were things Dean could imagine that went beyond even the petty tortures of Alistair.

On the sofa, Castiel stirred. His body had been put through Hell and back, literally, and it called for rest- one of the drawbacks of having a permanent vessel.

"Cas!" Dean all but fell to his knees on the floor by the couch. His hands running over Cas' body searching for wounds or injuries.

"I'm fine Dean. Merely tired," he assured, smiling weakly.

Dean countered, "You were sleeping, Cas."

"From time to time this body needs rest."

"Bullshit," Dean answered, not believing his angel. "In all the time I've known you the only time you've slept was when you were half dead or almost human, so don't tell me you were 'merely tired'!" The hunter was beginning to lose his cool. He'd kept himself together over the weeks Cas had been gone, but this coupled with the fear Gabriel's message had instilled in him were more than he could take.

Cas sat up, pulling Dean to sit beside him. He encouraged Dean's roaming hands, still checking for injuries that weren't there. "Dean," Castiel lifted the man's chin so he could look him in the eye- those seas of green as bright and mesmerizing now as they had been that first day. Slowly he brought their lips to touch. He let their mouths work lazily against each other pulling wispy sounds of pleasure from them both. Their lips sealed together as their tongues played in a slow dance of love and passion.

Breathlessly, Dean murmured, "You kept your promise."

"Mmm, and I will again and again and again, until you believe I'm alright."

Pressing their foreheads together Dean chuckled, "I might be a hard sell, if only to get more samples."

Cas leaned forward whispering in Dean's ear, "Then you would miss out on what else I had to offer."

Dean laughed outright. "I love you, you featherbrained angel."

Dean and Cas spent several long minutes just being with each other, it had been too long, but Castiel was certain Dean would find their separation worthwhile.

Finally, Dean asked, "Where's Bobby?"

"Upstairs," Cas replied trying not to let his anticipation show.

"Better go let him know I'm here," Dean said, wistfully, not wanting to leave his angel even for a moment.  
He started for the hall and the staircase, surprised when his angel followed close behind, reassurance radiating from him like a physical force.  
"Bobby?" he called loudly.

Bobby stormed out of the guest bedroom, throwing his arms around Dean, tears in his eyes. The Apocalypse had been averted and he had his boys back, more than he'd ever thought he would get. Pulling away with a couple manly pats to the back, Bobby choked out, "He's still out of it, but…" he shrugged, how did you say 'but considering he's spent the last six months in Hell watching two archangels try to beat each other senseless, he's doing pretty good' it just didn't send the right message.

Dean tilted his head, searching Bobby for any clue as to what he was talking about. When he could find none, he slipped past the older hunter and into the bedroom. _"Sammy?"_


	20. Chapter 19

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 19~~~~~~~~~

"Sam?" he choked out, not sure how to believe what he was seeing. He looked back to the doorway, where his surrogate father and his angel stood.  
"How?"

Smiling, "Gabriel."

"Gabriel?" he whispered shocked. "This is what you were doing. Why you left," he accused half-heartedly.

"Yes," Castiel admitted.

Dean turned back to the bed, afraid to move closer, that if he did the illusion would shatter. "Is he…" he gulped, "okay?"

Castiel came up behind him, letting his heat soak into him, comforting Dean with his presence. "He should be fine. His soul was buried deep within, as untouched as any human soul forced into Hell could be. His body was damaged, but as Lucifer still wanted him, he did protect his form from the worst. His mind was not as it should be, but Gabriel and I repaired what we could, Sam should come to himself within a few days."

Dean closed his eyes as Cas' words washed over him. He swayed, his body finally registering the shock and he fell back onto his angel. "Cas," was all he could muster, his eyes shining like jewels in the sunlight with unshed tears.

"I know," Cas whispered into his ear softly, wrapping his strong arms around him.

Coughing, Bobby interrupted them, looking at a loss.

"Bobby," Dean sobbed, his tears flowing in a slow, but steady stream.

The man was striding towards Dean, before his name finished leaving Dean's mouth.  
Clapping his arms around Dean, "Love you boys, but I swear, you're gonna be the death of me." His words were teasing, but his tone was warm and rough with emotion.

"Well, isn't this nice, did I interrupt a family moment?" He waved nonchalantly, "Don't mind me, I can wait."

Dean rounded, eyes burning as he approached the ever annoying archangel.

Gabriel calmly stared Dean down, until the hunter was right in his face.

"You," Dean huffed and his arms closed around the angel, shocking everyone, no one as much as Gabriel himself. "Thank you."

If Dean's actions had surprised everyone then Gabriel's blew their minds. The archangel returned Dean's hug, "You're welcome." Before he released Dean he whispered in his ear, "Just take care of Cas."

Pushing away from each other, Dean shook himself and went to Sam's side.

"So, I take it I'm no longer persona non grata around here," Gabriel smirked playfully.

"Oh no," Cas protested, knowing that twinkle in his brother's eye, "Gabriel," he warned.

"What? Not like I'd do anything."

Both Bobby and Castiel leveled him with a sharp stare.

Gabriel squirmed so slightly that it was almost beyond perception, then rolled his eyes. "…not until Sammy's better," he added reluctantly, followed by a playful huff and, "You guys are no fun. No wonder Cas prefers you lot." The angel managed to sound almost petulant and hurt.

Bobby shook his head at the angels, "What is it, they give ya wings and you turn into bigger idjits than these boys," he grumbled and headed downstairs

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and quirked his head.

Castiel placed a loving hand on Dean's back, "We shall be downstairs."

Dean nodded, not moving from Sam's side.

Once downstairs, Cas led the way to the kitchen, where he could hear Bobby puttering. Turning to Gabriel, he demanded, "Has your back healed?"

"It's fine, bro," Gabriel tried to shrug off Castiel's concern.

"Gabriel, you are as infuriating as Dean at times. Let me see."

For once Gabriel didn't argue slipping his jacket and shirt, which miraculously unbuttoned itself, down and turning for the younger angel's inspection.

Bobby froze, beer halfway out of the fridge, staring at the two angels in front of him. All the way down Gabriel's back were four red healing welts, he couldn't help thinking that there would be scars when they healed if he'd been human.

Cas ran his hand over the wounds, "They will scar."

Gabriel snorted, "Ya think? He's always had a temper, and he didn't exactly hold anything back." He slid his clothes back on and wandered into the living room effectively ending their conversation.

"What the Hell happened to him?" Bobby asked the other angel.

"Lucifer," he answered simply. "He was not pleased when Gabriel took Sam."

The older hunter grunted, grabbed a second beer, and followed the archangel into his living room.  
Bobby handed the angel a beer.

Raising an eyebrow, Gabriel looked skeptically between the hunter and the offered beer. "Why?"

"You're not a complete dick," Bobby answered simply.

Gabriel laughed, a true smile breaking across his face, "Thanks."

In the kitchen Castiel smiled to himself, he had no doubt his brother would be accepted now.


	21. Chapter 20

~~~~~~~~~Chapter 20~~~~~~~~~

"Noooooooooooooo!" The scratchy scream echoed throughout Bobby's house.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, keeping him from thrashing against the unknown demons his mind was throwing at him. "Sam! Sammy!"

"Dean," he gasped hoarsely, eyes wild darting everywhere at once, his arms clutching at Dean's, holding him like a life line.

"Yeah," he pulled Sam into a tight almost painful hug.

A rush of footsteps clamoured up the stairs and into the doorway. Cas and Gabriel smiled at the scene, letting Bobby passed them to see his boys embracing.

"Sam?"

He looked over Dean's shoulder at the old hunter, "Bobby?"

Bobby wasted no time joining the welcoming embrace between the brothers.

Once they pulled apart, Sam asked, "What happened, how'd I…?"

Dean chuckled, he was too happy to care how it sounded, "Those two featherheads over there," Dean jutted his chin towards the door.

"Cas?" His brow scrunched up, "Gabriel? You're dead."

Shaking his head, "Everyone keeps telling me that," the angel snarked with a smile. "Whatever happened to 'Hi, Gabe, nice to see ya'," he continued on as he returned downstairs, leaving the core of that little family to themselves.

Dean and Bobby laughed at the archangel who was rapidly finding a home with the rest of the misfits under Bobby's roof.  
"He was, Daddy Dearest brought him back to help Cas whip Heaven into shape," Dean answered Sam's question.

"But… me?"

Cas came to sit on the bed with Bobby and Dean, "He had been researching it even before I asked for his assistance."

"How? What about Lucifer and Michael, if you sprung me, what about them?" Sam asked nervously, he was all for being busting out of Hell, but not if it meant having to stop Lucifer _or_ Michael again.

"Calm down, Sammy," Dean reassured. "They're still nice and tucked away in Luci's cage."

"How're you feeling boy?" Bobby asked, still shell-shocked. It was one thing to see Sam's body, know he was breathing and his blood was pumping. It was quite another for him to be awake and talking.

"Sore," he chuckled, thinking about everything he must have gone through to get here. "Hungry," he knitted his brow, "when was the last time I ate?"

Dean smiled and looked passed Bobby to Cas, "Okay, what'd ya do to him? He sounds like me," he teased.

Castiel rolled his eyes, but smiled lovingly at his hunter. Seeing Dean so happy and content filled him with even more joy than he ever thought he could feel.

Sam still had a long road before he'd be well again, but he was on the road to recovery, they all were, and that was enough for now.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

With Sam slowly getting better Dean decided it was time to have a chat with their resident Trickster/Archangel. There were too many things Dean needed answers to, and he wanted to hear them from the angel himself.

"There you are," Dean had found the angel out in the junkyard watching some industrious squirrels set up housekeeping in the remains of an old Dodge Dart.

"If it were me, I woulda gone for the Caddy two rows over," nonchalant as ever.

"Good thing you're not a squirrel."

That earned Dean a put upon glance.

Dean ignored him. "Of course that might be more disturbing if you weren't a squirrel," he added thoughtfully.

Snickering, Gabriel asked Dean, "What do you want Winchester?"

Dean leaned against the opposite wall of junkers, "Was wondering how your back was doing?" he asked plainly.

Gabriel tensed, "What do you know about it?"

Dean sighed, "Bobby said Lucifer sliced you up pretty bad."

Gabriel was uncharacteristically silent.

"You didn't have to do that."

Gabriel's honeyed eyes flashed.

"Any of it, I mean."

The archangel huffed out a laugh. "You're an idiot. You know that, don't you?"

Dean was brought up short by the honest annoyance in Gabriel's words.

Thankfully the angel took pity on him. "I did it for Cas. Fool loves you more than you know and I knew you couldn't make him happy if part of you was constantly killing yourself over Sam." He huffed, more annoyed now that he was warming to his topic. "You know, he actually told me you'd be okay without him as long as you had Sam."

Dean's eyes widened so far in horror that in other circumstances Gabriel would have found it funny.

"Yeah, when we were down there, he told me go on without him. He knows you love him, but he thinks you love Sam more."

Dean growled audibly and was gone before Gabriel could say another word. He wasn't done with Gabriel, there was still more he wanted to understand, especially before he openly welcomed the man into his family, but right now he had to have some words with his own angel.  
As he stormed into the house, he called as calmly as he could for Cas knowing even in Heaven the angel would hear him.

Within moments and a flutter of air and wings Cas was there.

"You told Gabe that you were expendable," the hunter raged, throwing his full weight into the angel, managing to pin him to the wall out of shock rather than strength. "What the _Hell_? Haven't you learned anything you featherbrained prick! I _love_ you. I _need_ you. Not even Sammy could fix me if I lost you again. There's only so much I got Cas, and you, Sammy, you're it."

"Dean," Cas was dumbstruck.

"No more dying, not for me, not for Sammy, just don't."

Castiel pulled Dean's arm off of him, then placed his own hands on the hunter's hips and kissed Dean's eyelids softly, "I'm sorry, Dean. I will be more aware of my decisions just as you must."


	22. Chapter Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~Epilogue~~~~~~~~~

The Winchester entourage had been holed up at Bobby's for three months while Sam healed. For once in his life, Dean was content to let the nastiness of the world go on without him. He had his brother back and his angel, and they all needed time to heal. There would still be plenty to hunt, after.

Gabriel stopped by almost daily to talk to Cas about Heaven and to check on Sam- though he'd never admit it, he'd grown very protective of the Winchesters.

And Cas, well, he still disappeared to Heaven every few days, but he _always_ talked to Dean while he was away, usually in his dreams. That first night, he'd entered his dream silently, coming up behind Dean's dream self and wrapping his arms and wings around him, whispering his gruff, "Hello, Dean," into the man's ear. Dean had jumped, startled by the embrace and Cas' voice. It took a moment for his heart to stop racing before he turned inside the soft feathered cocoon and rested his head on Cas' shoulder. Outside the darkness that always hovered on the edge of Dean's dreams retreated even further.

"Why're you here," he'd asked.

"To see you," Cas replied calmly as he nuzzled Dean's neck. "I didn't want you to worry."

Dean smiled lazily against Cas' neck, "Won't worry. I know you're coming back."

"Good," Cas said as his eyes turned wanton, flaring with desire.

The darkness never tainted Dean's dreams when Cas was there, the angel protecting him from himself even in his own psyche.

Sam was almost his old self, or as much as he could be considering all the changes all of them had gone through these past years. He was laughing and joking and more at peace with himself than Dean had ever seen him. Dean didn't know if it was being in Hell, or Lucifer's influence or possibly Gabriel and Cas', all he knew was he was getting his brother back and they were going to be okay, maybe not today or tomorrow, but they were getting there, a little closer every day.

As for Bobby, well, he was taking everything in stride, like he always did. His house, once so empty with only moldy tomes and books of every sort, was now constantly filled with the noises of family, even the blasted, idjit angels, who got themselves killed for his boys almost as often as they died for each other, were all but living there when they weren't gallivanting around Heaven. It was annoying and frustrating and every sense of weird anyone could imagine and he wouldn't trade it for the world. Okay, maybe he'd trade it every other Saturday; after all, even an old dog like him needed some space on occasion.


End file.
